Page 35 of His Dark Pact
Pushing the door open, she teetered past the threshold to find Leonard waiting for her. His eyes widened as she stepped inside the room, his piggy eyes devouring the way she was dressed.
“Kyle has you all dressed up, does he, lass?” Leonard snorted.
“I’m here for the food.” She hoped her curt tone revealed her feelings about his cutting tone. She had enough invested in reading Kyle’s demeanor and had no interest in engaging with the overweight guy he paid to cook for him.
“I bet.” Leonard’s stare lingered on her breasts. “He does have a way with women, that man.”
“It’s not my place to discuss Mr. Kyle’s personal life.” She folded her arms across her chest but only succeeded in shoving her cleavage together.
“Good little maid.” He laughed, his amusement amplifying her discomfort. “The question is, whatis yourplace dressed like that?”
Leonard raised a good point, but it wasn’t a conversation she was prepared to have with the odious chef.
“That’s none of your damn business.” She didn’t like what Leonard was insinuating.
Even if she was attracted to Kyle, their interaction had nothing to do with him. She’d have to talk to Kyle about his cook’s overzealous attention if she was to stay long term.
“Take the first course.” Apparently unflustered by her rebuke, he gestured to the table between them, where two plates of beautifully presented food sat waiting. “The plates are hot.”
Leonard turned, still sniggering as he paced back toward his domain. He was halfway through the door when he threw the final comment her way. “The main course will be ready in thirty minutes.”
“Right.”
She reached for the cloth waiting by the plates and, stretching the fabric between both hands, she collected the dishes and carried them slowly into the dining room.
“Finally.” Kyle swilled his wine around his glass. “I’m hungry.”
Amy’s gaze flitted to his, her feet pausing to ensure she didn’t drop the plates. “Your chef is a rude man.”
“Leonard has been with me a long time,” Kyle said, as though it explained or justified the cook’s behavior. “I bet he appreciated what you were wearing.”
“He’s vile.” She edged closer to where he was sitting, placing a plate down on his scarlet-covered dining mat.
“He’s jealous,” Kyle corrected, admiring her cleavage as she pushed the plate toward him. “I’ve known him for more than a decade, and he’s never so much as had a girlfriend.”
I can’t imagine why.
“He’s married to his work,” Kyle went on. “But heisgood at it.”
“Yes, well...” She had to admit the brunch he’d served had been tremendous, but that didn’t mean she wanted to be treated with such disrespect. “I’m just saying.”
“You two will learn to get along,” he vowed as she placed down her own plate. “If we want you to stay, that is.”
“We?” She twisted to face him.
“You and I,” he clarified. “This is only day one of your trial, remember?”
How could she forget? Was there any other reason she’d be wobbling around on heels and wearing such risqué attire? If there was, she couldn’t think of one. Even if she had met Kyle personally, without the offer of employment, she would never have conceived of wearing such a dress.
“I remember, sir.” She grabbed her chair and eased it back across the floor.
“You will ask permission before you’re seated at my table, Amy.”
She blinked at him, unsure why he would demand such an unreasonable request. “But I ate here with you earlier, sir.”
Her mortified blush was growing again, her embarrassment all the greater now she was trussed up for him. Yes, she looked pretty good in the outfit, but the reason for wearing it wasn’t lost on her. It was for Kyle.
It was all for Kyle.