Part 205 (1/2)

”Some people don't have to get up at dawn to be productive.”

She gripped the flowers a little tighter. She didn't want to spoil the

moment with an argument. ”Shall I fix you some coffee?”

”You might as well. There'll be no getting any sleep here.”

Emma took the flowers and wine into the kitchen. It was a narrow room

made s.p.a.cious by the gla.s.sed-in breakfast nook. She had chosen blues

and white-gleaming navy countertop, white appliances, pale blue and

white tiles for the floor. There was an old kitchen hutch in the corner

she'd painted white herself It displayed a collection of cobalt gla.s.s.

Emma added fresh water to the trio of cacti she'd started in blue bowls,

then began fixing breakfast. They had help three days a week, but she

enjoyed cooking a few meals as much as she enjoyed developing a good

print. She set Drew's favorite sausage on to grill before she ground

beans for coffee.

When he entered a few moments later, still bare-chested and unshaven,

the scents were enough to mellow his mood. Besides, he liked seeing her

at the stove, cooking for him. It reminded him that no matter who she

was, no matter how fat her bank account, she belonged to him.

He strolled over to kiss the side of her throat. ”Morning.” Her

answering smile faded as he slid his hands up to rub her b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

”It'll be ready in a minute.”

”Good. I'm starved.” He gave her nipples a quick, ungentle pinch.

She hated when he did that, but said nothing as she moved over to pour

his coffee. When she'd told him she didn't care to be pinched, he'd

only begun to do it more often. Just teasing her, he claimed.

You're too sensitive, Emma. You have no sense of humor.