Taming London (Warwick Dragons #1) - Milly Taiden Page 0,27

couldn’t remember the last time someone had cooked for her. Probably when her mom had been alive. But she knew that no man had ever cooked for her before. Her ex had always griped at her that she never cooked for him, and he even had his own mother berate her for her lack of skills in the kitchen. Like it was her responsibility to feed her man.

This was something else entirely.

London was cooking for her out of the goodness of his heart. She settled at one of the stools at the kitchen island and watched him as he worked. He sprinkled some spice on the salmon and slid the pan into the oven, tucking it beside a tray that held huge slices of sweet potatoes that were roasting with olive oil drizzled on top. A steamer was churning hot water where a head of broccoli was being steamed to perfection.

“We should take a glass of wine in the living room while this cooks.”

Bethany didn’t think wine was a good idea, and when she said as much, London shrugged.

“I have sparkling water and slices of lemon if that’s more to your taste.”

It was, and it was refreshing. Bethany knew that she had to stay away from anything that would help lower her inhibitions. London was doing enough of that just by being himself. If she was honest with herself, Bethany could admit that the man she had spent her day with was more in line with what she had expected of London Warwick, a man raised by the lovely Johanna.

He had been courteous and kind, downright chivalrous.

“Oh, I guess you were around in the time of chivalry,” she blurted out loud. Yup, staying away from the wine had definitely been a good idea. Her lips were loose enough without any help from alcohol.

London chuckled lightly. “Something like that. Why? Are you surprised by my sense of chivalry today?”

She shrugged. “Something like that.” She had repeated his words on purpose. “You’ve been alive for a very long time, huh?”

“Yes. But don’t ask me just how long. I’ve long since lost count.” He shuddered, and she knew it wasn’t for show. It had been a raw, vulnerable response.

“Do you ever get bored of things? Mundane things like cooking or getting dressed?”

London considered her questions for a few seconds. He took a slow sip of his wine. As his tongue peeked out to lick at a stray drop of wine, Bethany gulped audibly. That tongue action had made her hot under the collar.

“There are a few things that can get tedious. Cooking isn’t really one of them. I’ve only learned how to do that in the last century or so. Before that, there was a large staff to take care of it, and if the lord of the manor had been seen puttering over a boiling pot, it would have caused a fuss. And getting dressed has changed a lot. I definitely find this newer fashion more comfortable. Fewer layers and the material isn’t as scratchy. The world has changed a lot, so that’s not really what I get bored of.”

Bethany nodded like she could understand, but there was no way that she could. She also didn’t really want to know what London did get bored of. She knew the answer already.

Commitment.

Women.

Relationships.

Those were so at odds with the man he was showing himself to be. That was foolish. She had to resist the urge to quell down the knowledge. She had to remember who London was, and what he was capable of. Control yourself! You’re not interested in him like that and all he likes are booty calls. Do you really think he’s relationship material? With that reputation? With his womanizing ways?

The oven timer dinged, bringing Bethany back to the moment. She excused herself to go wash up while London busied himself with plates and arranging their meals on large black plates.

When Bethany sat beside him at the long dinner table, she felt her mouth water. Dinner looked delicious. The garlic butter was dripping off the shiny and freshly steamed broccoli. The slices of lemon had dehydrated in the heat of the oven, and she knew the tangy taste would be delicious on the salmon. Even the sweet potatoes, glistening with olive oil, were calling her name.

“Thanks so much for this,” she said, taking up her fork.

London raised his wine glass. “To good company and good food. Though I dare say that the company is lovelier than anything I’ve ever laid eyes on,