The Scotch Series: The Complete Series (Scotch #1-3) - Penelope Sky Page 0,181

when I made my announcement. Instead of looking annoyed, she stared at me exactly the way she used to, like she missed me after I’d been gone at work all day.

I loved that look, and that fucking terrified me.

“I’m sure he’ll be fine.” She grabbed the two plates and set them on the small wooden table that hugged the small living room. Her standard of living was poor, even by poor standards.

But I didn’t have the audacity to insult her. I took a seat at the table and stared at her.

She sat down and poured me a glass of my own scotch, knowing I wouldn’t have wanted water or anything else. She took the seat across from me, looking fine in the dark blue dress she wore. She was overdressed for the occasion, so I knew that outfit was specifically picked to impress me.

And it did.

It was the first time she’d ever cooked for me, and I stared down at the meal of chicken, salad, and rice. It smelled good, and it smelled even better because she was the first woman to ever make me anything. Josephine couldn’t cook if her life depended on it. A life of royalty had made her inherently lazy and stupid. “This looks good.”

“Thanks.” She placed her napkin in her lap and began to eat like she hadn’t just kidnapped me.

“Is this how you get all your dates?”

“Just the ones I really like.”

I forced myself not to smile in response, but it was difficult to do. Even under the extreme circumstance, our chemistry was evident. She was the only person in the world who could make my anger disappear without even trying. I grabbed my fork and ate, surprised how good it was. “Looks like you can save lives and cook.”

“I’m a woman of many talents.”

I drank my scotch as I stared at her, taking advantage of the fact that her gaze was averted so I could look at her. She didn’t get right to the point immediately, but I knew it was coming. She was giving me a false sense of security, a comfort that wouldn’t last long.

“You’re going golfing this weekend?” she asked, keeping the conversation light.

“Yeah. It’s a charity event. I go every year.”

“That should be fun. But it’ll probably be cold.”

I drank the rest of my scotch, downing an entire glass before I even finished my meal. London probably noticed, but she didn’t make a comment about it. My health was none of her concern anymore. “It’s always cold in London. I’m used to it.”

“How are you at golf?”

I wasn’t one to brag. “Not too bad.”

“I’ve never played.”

“It can get a little boring after the ninth hole.” Now we were talking like we used to, the conversation flowing even though the topic of discussion was mediocre. It didn’t matter how close Ariel and I were—we’d never had this kind of relationship. The only person I’d experienced it was with London. The fact that she sucked me in so easily only fueled my anger. “Let’s get to the point, London. I have a plane to catch.” I didn’t eat all of my food even though I wanted to, just to make a statement. I wasn’t going to eat her cooking and picture her making my meals. That was exactly what she wanted.

“The point?” she asked. “I just wanted to see you. There is no point.” She did something different with her makeup, making her eyes darker and her lashes longer. I liked the smoky look, the prominence of her cheekbones and the fullness of her lips.

I poured another glass of scotch just to spite her.

She hid her annoyance, but I knew it burned under the surface.

“You know I’m leaving in a week. My position here at the clinic is over, and I need to get back to New York.”

I knew her time here was running out. She gave herself a month to make it work with me, and not a day longer.

She set her fork down, not finishing her food either. She looked me square in the eye, unflinching, strong, and beautiful. “It’s been a few weeks now. I’m assuming you’ve had a chance to think about what I said.”

That’s all I’d been thinking about. “It doesn’t change anything. You know that.”

She gripped her glass of scotch but didn’t take a drink. “I can apologize as many times as you need to hear it, but you have yet to apologize to me.”

“Apologize for what?” I asked incredulously.

“For keeping me as a prisoner