Reba’s POV
‘I hope you don’t mind,” I said, my voice embarrassingly breathless. “I thought you might be hungry when you woke up.”
‘I don’t <b>mind </b>at all, he murmured, his breath stirring the hair at my temple. Then<b>, </b>to my surprise, his arms encircled my waist, and he leaned down to inhale deeply near my neck. “You’re a woman of hidden talents, it seems.”
My heart hammered against my ribs, my body responding traitorously to his proximity. “It’s <b>just </b>steak and mushrooms. Nothing <b>fancy</b><b>.</b><b>” </b>
His hands remained at my <b>waist</b><b>, </b>thumbs making small circles against the fabric of my blouse. “Where did you learn to cook?”
*Self–taught, mostly, I managed, focusing on the sauce to distract myself from his touch. “My mom worked double shifts when <b>I </b>was <b>in </b>high school, so I took over dinner duty. Taught myself from cooking shows and YouTube videos<b>.</b><b>” </b>
Dominic was silent for a moment, and I felt his chest expand against my back as he took a deep breath. When he spoke again, his voice was softer<b>, </b>almost gentle. “Your life hasn’t been <b>easy</b>, has it?”
The unexpected perception in his question caught me off guard. I shrugged, ufortable with the direction of the conversation. “Lots of people have it worse.”
He released me then<b>, </b>stepping back to give me <b>space</b>. Dinner will be ready soon<b>?</b>”
I nodded, both relieved and oddly disappointed by the loss of his warmth. “About ten minutes. You can sit down if you want.”
Instead of leaving, Dominic leaned against the counter, watching me work. The weight of his gaze made my movements self–conscious, but I continued preparing the meal.
We ate <b>at </b>the kitchen ind, the formal dining room seemingly too stuffy for just the two of <b>us</b>. Dominic had shed his tie entirely, and rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt, revealing strong forearms dusted with dark hair. The sight was unexpectedly intimate, <b>as </b>though I <b>was </b>seeing <b>a </b>side of him few others witnessed.
“This is excellent,” hemented after his first bite of steak, his expression one of genuine appreciation. “The sauce especially.”
A flush of <b>pleasure </b>warmed my cheeks at thepliment. “Thank you. I’m d you like it.”
We <b>ate </b>in rtive silence for a few minutes, the only sounds the soft clink of silverware against tes and the asional appreciative <b>hum </b>from Dominic. I found myself sneaking nces at him, still adjusting to the reality of sharing meals with this powerful, enigmatic
<b>man</b>.
‘Reba,” he said finally, setting down his fork. “There’s something we need to discuss<b>.</b><b>” </b>
My appetite immediately vanished, tension knotting my stomach. “Yes?<b>” </b>
<b>Dominic </b>reached beside him, producing a thick folder I hadn’t noticed before. He ced it on the counter between us.
“This is the agreement we discussed. It outlines everything in explicit detail. I believe in absolute rity when ites to… <b>arrangements </b>
of this nature.”
(64)
I stared at the folder, my stomach churning. The clinical term “arrangement” made my skin crawl.
Dominic opened the folder, his finger tracing over sections as he spoke. “Section one covers the financialpensation. Your father’s medical expenses-$1,500,000 for the surgery, post–operative care, and rehabilitation–will be paid in full upon your signature. Additionally, I’ll pay for your personal expenses and fashion studies.”
The exact figures made me flinch. Seeing the worth of my body calcted so precisely was nauseating.
“Section two,” he continued coldly, “outlines your obligations. You will reside here, in my home. You will be avable to me whenever I requirepanionship, both in public and private settings.”
His eyes met mine, unflinching. “Section three specifies the physical expectations of our arrangement. You will share my bed when requested. You will participate willingly in all intimate activities I desire. There’s a list of exceptions you may specify–anything beyond that is considered within the scope of our agreement.”