Undeniably Yours (Torn, #3.5)(9)



I respected that.

Holding her close, I kissed her forehead and squeezed her tightly against my chest. Yeah, she was definitely going to be worth it. I simply felt it all the way down in my gut.

“Go freshen up while I make us some breakfast. Take two lefts and the bathroom is on the right. See you in a bit.” With another kiss on her head, I let go of her and strolled towards the kitchen.

Opening the fridge, I gathered what I could to form a light brunch. Knowing how women were, Emma was probably going to take another ten minutes in the bathroom, checking if each eyelash was in place; I hated how some women put fifty layers of mascara and ended up looking like a raccoon by the end of the day.

Emma strode in five minutes later, make-up free with only a hint of shiny, girly gloss that smelled of strawberries.

f*uk, I love strawberries…

Shaking my head, I directed Emma, who was leaning against the counterpane. “Come sit and talk to me while I cook. Which hotel are you and your friends staying at again? I’ll drive you there myself,” I offered as I focused on chopping the onions.

She took her time before she decided to sit on the stools and watched me with great intensity. As much as I wanted to look up and study her watching me, I decided to play it like I was too engrossed in the damn onion.

“That might be a problem. It seems that they all left already and I’m stuck alone in Los Angeles.”

I gave her a quick glance before I took out the newly rinsed mushrooms. “No problem. I can take you back to campus.” I shrugged, thinking that she shouldn’t be shy about asking me anything; especially after last night.

Nothing happened, physically, although something existed between us; we shared it, even if we didn’t openly talk about it. It hung over us, even now.

“Where did you learn how to cook?”

“I was a chef in one of my movies and I had to train with this five-star chef for three months before shooting.”

“Wow, three months? What movie was it?”

Pausing, I studied her clean, beautiful face. It made her eyes stand out more; eyes that were starting to become my weakness, which was, as I stated a million times, strange.

Was Emma a fan of my films? She didn’t seem to look it. Smirking, I directed her a question. “How many films of mine have you seen, Emma?” While waiting for her to respond, I cracked four eggs in a bowl, peppered them, added a dash of salt and rapidly scrambled them all together.

“Knights of Cimmerian.”

“Did you like it?” I asked without looking at her as I drizzled olive oil into the heated pan.

“Sure, it was great!” she lied.

This woman couldn’t lie if her life depended on it. “What did you like about it?”

A big, fat silence came before she dug herself further. “Everything… it was… great.”

She was biting her lip, looking at me through her lashes, while probably hoping I’d buy her one, little, white lie.

Silly, Emma, I thought as I barked out a loud, deep laugh. “It’s either you didn’t like it or you weren’t paying attention. So which is which?”

“I wasn’t paying attention. Sorry. When you asked, I didn’t know what to tell you to be honest.”

“Don’t worry, babe, I’m not offended.” I winked at her as I prepared our breakfast.

Emma was in charge of making the toast, coffee and cutting up some grapefruits, melons and some pineapples while I cooked.

It was past noon when we left the house and drove towards Santa Barbara. My blue Lamborghini Gallardo weaved through the traffic, taking note how much the woman beside me kept her eyes on me during the whole journey towards Ventura county.





Honesty Is Always The Best Policy



Exiting the freeway, Emma immediately gave directions to her place. As we drove there, my mind was going through a lot of things, hoping that she was willing to continue seeing me after today. The thought of not seeing her again suddenly got me edgy. Parking the car on the curb, I glanced at her before I decided to kill the engine.

We shared one of those looks. A look that held confusion, wonder and uncertainty. The silence stretched for a good minute before Emma decided to break the ice. “It was nice to meet you, Bass. It really was. I had a great time; bizarre, but enjoyable nonetheless.” She was grinning at me, however her shaky, high-pitched voice got me worried once again. Her smile faltered when I didn’t reciprocate her smile.

Blue met blue, drawing into each other, and I thought then, this was as good a moment as any. “I have this dinner thing on Tuesday night for a film I just signed up to shoot this summer in Greece. Would you come with me and be my date?”

“Oh, don’t you all discuss work details? I don’t want to intrude on that.” She suddenly seemed all self-conscious.

Was that just an excuse to put me down lightly or did she really mean it? “You won’t. It’ll be fun. The director is my godfather, actually. So it’s going to be laidback; don’t worry. You’re going to have a blast. Say you’ll go with me?”

“Do people ever tell you no?” she cocked a brow at me, eyes twinkling.

She looked kissable right now… damn.

A lazy, gorgeous smile etched on my face as I responded back, “Well, there’s this girl… she’s stunning and funny and she has these beautiful blue eyes and golden hair and she doesn’t seem to be interested in me, not one bit. I, on the other hand, feel compelled to be with her and to see more of her.”

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