<b>Chapter </b>34


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    <b>64 </b>


    “Would you like something to drink? Water? Coffee?” I struggled to control the tremor in my voice, hoping he hadn’t noticed my unease.


    Dominic studied me for a moment before sighing. “Water would be fine.”


    I hurried to the kitchen, grateful for the simple task to upy my hands. When I returned with a ss of filtered water, Dominic had moved to the sofa, his tall frame sinking into the cushions as he loosened his tie further.


    “You don’t need to act like a servant, Reba,” he said as he epted the water. “I didn’t bring you here to wait on me.”


    Heat rushed to my cheeks, not just from embarrassment but from the way he said my name–low and intimate, as if each syble was a caress. “I wasn’t sure what… I mean, the agreement…” I couldn’t even form aplete sentence.


    “The agreement is that you live here, in my home, and share my bed,” he stated matter–of–factly. “Not that you be my housekeeper. I have staff for that.”


    “Oh.” I sat down on the opposite end of the sofa, still feeling awkward. “I just thought I should make myself useful.”


    Dominic took a long drink of water before setting the ss down. “You are useful simply by being here. That was our arrangement.”


    An ufortable silence stretched between us. I watched as Dominic leaned his head back against the sofa, his eyes drifting closed. Within minutes, his breathing deepened, and I realized with surprise that he had fallen asleep.


    I studied him in this unguarded moment–the strong line of his jaw now rxed, darkshes against his cheeks, the steady rise and fall of his chest. Without his intimidating stare andmanding presence fully activated, he looked almost… vulnerable. The thought made my heart constrict in a strange way, triggering a protective instinct that surprised even myself.


    A surge of unexpected tenderness moved through me. How long had it been since he’d properly rested? Acting on instinct, I retrieved a soft throw nket from a nearby chair and gentlyid it over him. Watching his peaceful sleeping face, my fingertips almost couldn’t resist the urge to stroke his face, the strength of this impulse shocking me.


    Shaking off the feeling, I retreated to the kitchen, deciding to make myself useful regardless of what he’d said. Cooking had always been afort activity for me, and the well–stocked refrigerator offered plenty of options. I could make something to help this ce feel less foreign, to make myself feel less like an outsider.


    I settled on something simple but satisfying–pan–seared steak with a mushroom cream sauce and roasted vegetables. As I worked, the familiar motions of chopping, searing, and stirring soothed my frayed nerves, bringing a sense of normalcy to this decidedly abnormal situation. I becamepletely immersed in the rhythm of cooking, almost forgetting where I was and why I hade.


    The rich aroma of cooking meat and sautéing mushrooms soon filled the kitchen. I was so absorbed in my task that I didn’t notice Dominic’s approach until I felt a warm breath against the back of my neck, followed immediately by his voice directly behind me.


    “What are you doing, little doe?”


    I startled, nearly dropping the wooden spoon I was using. The next moment, a pair of strong arms encircled my waist, gently pulling me against a solid chest. Dominic’s scent enveloped me, his presence so close that every nerve ending in my body seemed to ignite. My heart pounded violently as if trying to escape my chest, my breath catching in my throat at this sudden intimacy.


    “Smells good, doesn’t it?”