Page 35 of Taken Off Camera
Strong hands catch me before I hit the floor, one arm wrapping around my waist while the other steadies my shoulder.
Sebastian pulls me against his solid chest. “Easy. Let me help you.”
My cheeks burn hotter with embarrassment. “So much for appearing graceful and seductive.”
Sebastian’s chuckle rumbles through his chest and into mine. “I find your enthusiasm endearing.”
He guides me away from the footstool, his hand at the small of my back, sending heat curling through me.
“The table’s straight ahead,” he murmurs. “About five steps.”
I follow his direction, letting him steer me toward the dining area.
“Let me handle the rest.” Sebastian directs my hand to the back of a chair. “The table setting looks very nice.”
The praise draws a pleased purr from me. When I planned tonight, I aimed to show him I can be domestic as well as seductive.
“I hoped tonight would be special,” I admit as he helps me into my chair, his hands gentle on my shoulders.
“It already is.” Sebastian squeezes me before he moves away, the sound of his footsteps heading toward the kitchen to rescue my forgotten potatoes.
My nervousness dissipates as I sit in the darkness of my blindfold, listening to him move through my apartment with familiar ease. After so long catering toeveryone else’s whims, being cared for by him is a rare kind of peace.
“These potatoes smell delicious.” Sebastian’s footsteps return to me, followed by the light thud of the pan settling on the waiting trivet. “Do you want a little bit of everything?”
“Yes, please.” I wait while he prepares my plate, then guides my fingers to my plate.
“Your plate is arranged like a clock,” Sebastian explains. “Chicken at six o’clock, potatoes at two, and vegetables at ten. Wine glass at one o’clock, about four inches from your plate.”
I map the table in my mind. “This is like a trust exercise.”
“In many ways, it is.” The sound of a chair sliding closer reaches my ears. “May I help with the chicken?”
I give him a teasing smile. “Are you going to feed me again?”
His leg brushes mine beneath the table. “Only if you want me to.”
“I think I can feed myself this time.” I hook my foot over his. “Though, I do like you taking care of me.”
“I enjoy taking care of you, too. Let me cut your chicken, then.” Lips brush my cheek before hestraightens, and the quiet sounds of metal scraping ceramic fills the air as Sebastian cuts my food.
A gentle clatter as he sets down the knife and fork follows. “All set.”
I reach forward, fingers searching for my fork. When I find it, I stab at what I hope is a piece of chicken and bring it to my mouth. The tender meat falls apart with barely any encouragement, seasoned to perfection with garlic and rosemary.
“This is delicious,” Sebastian comments. “Did you follow a recipe?”
“My neighbor’s. She took pity on me when I confessed I was planning to order takeout for our first real date.”
I reach for my wine glass and misjudge the distance. My fingers catch the stem, tipping it precariously.
Sebastian’s hand shoots out, catching the glass before disaster strikes. “Got it.”
Our fingers tangle around the stem, his larger hand enveloping mine, and a laugh bubbles up, breaking the tension. “I promise I’ll grow used to this. I’m not normally this clumsy.”
“You’re doing well.” Sebastian guides my hand, helping me right the glass. “I’m sorry about thiswhole situation. The blindfold, I mean. I’m working with my therapist to become more confident.”
His apology catches me off guard. My free hand reaches up, touching the silk still secured around my eyes. “Don’t apologize. I want this.”
