“You had barely any. It is lovely. There isn’t any way in hell you’re full. And you’re going to eat more.” He paused then said, “Now.”
She stared at him stunned.
Then she said, “Prentice, really, I’m full.”
His eyes narrowed, he (and the plate) got close, his face dipped to hers and he asked in a low, quiet, dangerous voice, “Do I have to feed you?”
Her mind filled with images of Prentice feeding her finger food. Her body reacted pleasantly to these mental images.
She swallowed, shook her head and took the plate. He dropped her arm.
Isabella ate while Prentice stood watching her. This was a difficult task. Firstly, she was confused as to why he was practically force-feeding her. Secondly, his eyes on her did crazy things to her heart, her belly and her head.
When she cleaned the plate, she asked, maybe a little snotty (but really, he was force-feeding her!), “Happy?”
“Not really,” he returned. “But it’s a start.”
Then he walked away.
Isabella glared at him and then felt eyes on her. Prentice’s Mum was looking at her as was his sister as was Jason and Mrs. Kilbride.
They were all grinning.
“You’re getting too thin,” Mrs. Kilbride called out then she advised helpfully, “Now you should have some of your delicious cake!”
At that, Prentice pivoted on his boot, went directly to the cake, cut an enormous piece, slapped it on a plate and handed it to her.
Dougal burst out laughing.
Prentice tipped his head to the cake.
Isabella glared at him.
Prentice calmly accepted her glare.
His every-colored eyes on her did funny things to her heart rate.
She ate the cake.
Seriously, she needed to get out of there.
As soon as she could.
* * * * *
Prentice
The last partygoer was gone and except for the decorations which Sally didn’t want them to take down yet, everything was clean and tidy and his children were in bed.
Even Sally’s new cat, christened Blackie, was curled asleep at Sally’s feet.
Prentice needed a whisky.
In case he received a middle of the night phone call with bad news that would necessitate him being alert, he’d refrained since Sally had her accident.
With Sally home recovering, still in possession of all her important faculties, now asleep in bed and with Elle knocking herself out to care for him, his offspring and his home, including throwing a welcome home party for his injured daughter as well as sleeping in a bed not far away from him, he needed a f**king whisky.
He was considering what to do about Elle as he poured it.