Page 29 of Entangled
“Yes?” I asked, looking up from my book with only a bit of annoyance. Since I’d met Astrid, I hadn’t seen her often, but when I did she always had a motherly energy towards me and it was something I wasn’t familiar with. She made me feel more comfortable, and I found I could never be angry or upset with her in any way. Even if I was currently in the middle of a good part of my book and wanted to do nothing but stay within this fictional world.
“Mr. Luchetti has requested your presence at dinner,” she said in a tone that I already knew wasn’t to be argued with.
Of course Kade wanted my presence at dinner when I was just getting so used to being alone.
Since our last training session had resulted in Kade storming off for some reason I still don’t know, I’d seen little of him and our time together had come to an abrupt halt.
“It’ll be ready in about twenty minutes if you want to get ready,” she added, before turning on her heel and heading out the double doors.
Get ready? I looked down at my t-shirt and leggings and figured she did potentially have a point. The least I could do was make myself somewhat presentable. Maybe throw on a pair of jeans and a pair of sneakers so I didn’t look like a complete heathen.
I would love to not care what this man thought about me and how I dressed, but apparently I cared more than I thought as I put on a simple grey cocktail dress. I had taken my hair down from its ponytail and combed it out, threw on some light makeup, and even threw on a pair of heels. I looked like I was about to go to the club, not eat dinner with a man in his own home.
“You look beautiful, dear,” Astrid said from behind me, practically giving me a heart attack. The woman was small, but stealthy. “Dinner is ready.”
“Thank you, Astrid,” I replied shyly, not used to the compliment. I followed her through the doorway and down to the dining room where a spread of food was already waiting, as was the man of the hour himself.
I took him in before he noticed me and he was so devastatingly beautiful it’s almost alarming. It’s not fair for a man bred from violence and completely off limits to be so attractive to me.
It took only a moment before his eyes flicked to mine and his laid back demeanor changed as I watched his sharp intake of breath.
“Soren, please have a seat and join me for dinner,” he said as he pulled out the chair across from him, and silently gestured towards the seat. As I sat down and watched him return to his own chat, despite the table’s average length, I still felt miles away from him.
Scents of all varieties consumed my nostrils as we both began filling our plates, and I couldn’t decide what I wanted fast enough.
“This all looks delicious,” I said to fill the silence. “I’ll have to give my compliments to Muro.”
“Muro didn’t cook this tonight,” Kade admitted. “I did.”
“Oh,” I replied, sure that the faint pink on his cheeks was nothing in comparison to the red on mine. I never thought I’d see the day where this man was flushed with embarrassment or shyness, but here it was right in front of me.
“I didn’t know you could cook,” I said as I scooped a bite of lamb into my mouth. “Oh my gosh Kade. You cancook.”
I let my eyes roll into the back of my head dramatically and let out a moan to let him know how good I thought this food was.
I looked up to find Kade staring at me with wide eyes and blown pupils. He cleared his throat and looked down to his own meal.
“I’m full of surprises,” he said as he looked back up to me with a mischievous grin.
“That I do not doubt.” I laughed, feeling oddly free for the first time in a long time.
“Do you have any hobbies?” Kade asked in between bites of food.
I mulled over my response in my head because the many sides to this man gave me whiplash. He could be funny, or mean, or cold, and he had even had a tendency to lately show me he could be surprisingly kind. But even still, his question about wanting to know what interested me and what I did in my spare time threw me for a loop.
“I like to paint, and as you know, read,” I finally said, pushing my food around with my fork. “What about you?”
In recent years I had begun hating to talk about myself. Whenever I would talk to someone, or try to open up tosomeone, they only wanted whatever I told them for their own gain. They would use what I told them against me, so I had learned to shut who I really was away from the world, and let them be free to form their own opinions.
“I like to play the piano, and I like to read,” he said honestly, not meeting my eyes, as if he was afraid I’d judge him.
“I wish I could play an instrument,” I replied with a laugh, hoping to ease some of the tension in his shoulders. Why I cared so much about making him comfortable I couldn’t tell you.
“I could teach you some time if you’d like,” he offered, this time his strikingly beautiful eyes meeting mine.
“I think I’d like that very much,” I said truthfully, and I was surprised to find that I actually meant it.
The next morning,before I made my way down to my usual spot in the library, I opened my door to find a gift-wrapped box waiting for me.
