Page 35 of Brown Sugar
“Want to watch a movie? If I can figure out how to work this remote.”
“I want some of this food. We’ve got five whole carts to get through.”
“Our own private buffet,” she says with a snigger. “Make me a plate.”
I’ve got no idea why I can’t turn her down. Why the wordnofeels so impossible with her when it never has for anybody else.
Setting down my bottle of champagne, I grab two plates and begin piling things onto each one. Biscuits, sirloin steak, risotto,tuna tartare. Once I’m done, both plates have the most random assortment of food imaginable.
Kiana jumps in excitement anyway, thanking me for hers. We settle on the sofa that’s situated in the living area of the suite as the opening credits start.
“What movie is this?”
“I wanted to torture you,” she says, nudging her shoulder with mine. “I put onTitanic.”
I raise a thick brow at her. “So you want me here all night is what you’re saying.”
“It’s only three hours!”
“Pace yourself, princess. You’re already halfway through that bottle of Cristal.”
“I can handle my champagne.”
As if to prove my point, she reaches for her bottle and sucks down another mouthful.
I smirk, shaking my head to myself, cursing the day I accepted this contract. Though it’s not for the initial reason I thought it would be. It’s because, try as I might to keep things professional, it’s damn near impossible.
She’s too infectious.
Keeping things strictly work-related is a losing battle.
The movie starts on the television screen and we’re sitting side by side with our large plates of food and half-finished bottles of Cristal. I’m digging into the slices of pot roast on my plate when I sense her sneaky little stare. The instant I look over at her, she’s staring straight ahead again as if she’s been paying attention to the movie the whole time.
But the smirk tugging at the corners of her full mouth tell on her.
For the first hour and a half of the movie, as Jack draws Rose like one of his French girls, she’s playful. She cuts me theoccasional furtive glance only to pretend she hasn’t when I look over at her.
I finally call her out as Jack and Rose get busy in a fogged-up car.
“Anything on your mind, princess?” I ask.
“Shhh, the movie’s getting good. They’re about to hit the iceberg.”
“And yet you’re paying more attention to me.”
She giggles. “I have no clue what you’re talking about.”
I realize it’s the champagne already having an effect on her. It’s no wonder when she’s drank more than half a damn bottle in about an hour.
Now, as we try to sit and watch a movie, she’s smirking, sneaking me glances, and barely touching her food.
“Princess, you’ve got to eat something,” I say, forgetting about my own food.
She sets her plate down and stretches out beside me on the sofa. Her thick robe might swallow her up, but it still doesn’t do enough to disguise the fact that she’s got a delectable body hidden underneath. The collar of the robe slips open, falling down her shoulder, offering a tantalizing sneak peek of her smooth brown skin.
“Princess…” I growl.
She smirks at me, eyes bright. “I’m ready for dessert.”