She turned her attention to the pot of boiling sauce on the stove. Grabbing the spoon, she put it to her lips. Perfect. She turned back to face Darius. “Do you want to taste?” She offered him the spoon.
Slowly, he stalked toward her, eyeing her like a wary animal. She extended her arm so she could put the spoon closer to his mouth. To her shock, he grabbed her wrist, sending zings of electricity up her arm, and she got a whiff of that delicious vanilla scent of his. It sent her brain into overdrive and her wolf into howls of delight.
She tamped down her hormones but couldn’t help but watch as he opened his lips and took a taste of the sauce from the spoon.
“Well?” Her voice came out breathier than she wanted.
“It is … nice.” His expression turned flat, and he let go of her hand.
She felt even more frustrated at his cool indifference, even as her body reacted to being so close to him.
Darius obviously felt nothing. And that was good, she told herself. If this whole thing was going to work, she would have to keep him at an arm’s length. Still, she knew she was attractive. An ex-boyfriend had compared her curvy body to Botticelli’s Venus, and her face was pretty enough. For God’s sake, she couldn’t even go to industry conferences without an escort because she kept getting propositioned by various chefs and CEOs. So, maybe her ego was getting just a bit bruised because Darius didn’t seem to have the same reaction she was having to him.
“What’s going on here?”
Julianna’s voice made her take a step back away from Darius. “Julianna.” She cleared her throat. “What are you doing here?”
“Me?” Her sister marched into the kitchen. “What is he doing here?”
“Like I explained to Miss Anderson,” Darius began. “I am here to protect her.”
Julianna’s nostrils flared. “So you say.”
“I should inspect the perimeter,” he said, turning on his heel. “I’ll be back as soon as I’m done.” He disappeared out the back, the door shutting behind him with a loud thud.
“I still can’t believe Mama agreed to this,” Julianna huffed.
“I know, right?” She sighed and massaged her temple. “Lunch will be ready soon. Did you wash up?”
Julianna guffawed. “Yeah. And you should think of doing the same.”
“What do you—” She glanced toward the mirror hanging above the sink. “Oh, madre de dio!” She looked like a disaster. Most of her hair had come out of her bun, and her cheeks and temples were streaked with flour. The front of her shirt was splattered with red sauce and worse—she didn’t realize how thin both her shirt and bra were, and her nipples were poking through the fabric.
“Gahh!” She reached for the nearest kitchen towel and wiped her face, but really, she just wanted to hide the blush on her cheeks. Darius had seen her like this. No wonder he was eager to run away.
“Adrianna?” Julianna eyed her suspiciously. “What’s the matter?”
“Nothing.” She tossed the towel towards the sink. “I’ll finish up the pasta and we can eat soon.” Hopefully this day wouldn’t turn into a bigger disaster.
Darius didn’t return until after they had finished dinner. Adrianna would have called him in to eat, but she was still mad—that she had reacted like some hormonal boy-crazy teen around him, and he didn’t react to her at all. He could starve for all I care.
However, the Italian in her couldn’t help herself, so as soon as he walked back in the door, she said, “I made you a plate, it’s in the fridge. Now,” she shot back to Julianna. “Where were we?”
Julianna stared back at her from across the kitchen table, her mouth open.
Adrianna crossed her arms over her chest, signaling that she was not open to talking about this.
Her sister shrugged and pushed a folder at her. “What do you think of this one?”
After lunch, she and Julianna had decided to tackle the task of picking out recruits for the New Jersey Security Team. Frankie had assembled all the applicants’ files and handed them to her daughters so they could come up with a shortlist of candidates.
Adrianna opened the next folder with the applicant’s details. “Chase Harris. Personal trainer and boxer.” There was a photo of the young man, probably in his early twenties.
“He actually applied for a position in New York. Meredith sent his file over.” Meredith Jonasson was the New York Security Team’s second-in-command. “She really liked this guy, but they already had enough recruits for the year.”
“Let’s put him in the ‘yes’ pile. Who’s next?”
Julianna picked out another folder and slid it toward her. “Mark Jameson. High school football and track star, just graduated last spring.”
She opened the folder. “He’s been working different odd-jobs since then. His family’s been in Jersey for three generations.”
“Sounds like an ideal candidate,” Julianna said.
“He seems too young.”
Adrianna turned her head, then had to crane her neck when she realized he was actually standing right behind her. Darius had a plate in his hand, but was staring down at the folder in front of her. “Is that so?” she asked. “And how old were you when you started training to be an enforcer?”
He seemed taken aback by her question, but gave her a nod. “I apologize if I have overstepped my bounds. I shall finish my meal outside.” Without another word, he strode out the back door that led to the porch.
She watched him leave, not knowing what to say. Did she want him to stay? It didn’t seem right, having him waiting outside like some servant.
“Ahem.”
Her head snapped back to her sister, and she sucked in a breath. “What?” she asked.
Julianna was staring at her, her eyes narrowed. “I don’t like how he looks at you.”
“Looks at me? Like what?”
“Like he’s the Big Bad Wolf looking at Little Red Riding Hood.”
“Excuse me?”
“He’s always got this look in
