Chapter 19

~ LENA ~

The first thing that greeted me when I opened the kitchen door was the delicious aroma of breakfast.

The kitchen was huge, almost the size of a small apartment. Soft morning light filtered through the windows, touching the wide marble counters and stainless steel appliances lining the walls. A long kitchen island stood at the center of the room, its smooth surface gleaming faintly in the light.

Pancakes were stacked on a plate nearby. Something sizzled softly on the stove, the scent mingling with the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee lingering in the air.

And in the middle of it all stood Nathan.

He was by the stove, completely absorbed in what he was doing.

I was used to seeing him in perfectly tailored suits and crisp shirts, the kind of corporate elegance that always made him look distant and untouchable. Seeing him like this now felt almost surreal.

He wore a simple white T-shirt that clung lightly to his broad shoulders and loose gray lounge pants. He was barefoot, his hair slightly disheveled as though he had run his fingers through it more than once.

He looked relaxed. Too relaxed for the Nathan Blackwood that I knew. And so handsome. The sight of him standing there, quietly preparing breakfast, froze me where I stood.

The kitchen island behind him was covered with food. A bowl of strawberries sat beside the stack of pancakes. Fresh orange juice gleamed in a glass pitcher, and a basket of warm croissants rested beside it. Nearby sat a plate of soft scrambled eggs, along with small dishes of butter and maple syrup.

As if sensing my presence, he turned, his eyes landing on me immediately. Then a slow smile spread across his face.

“Good morning, Mrs. Blackwood.”

The playful warmth in his voice made heat rush to my face. I suddenly became aware of the way I was standing there, just watching him like a fool.

“ ’Morning, Mr. Blackwood,” I replied with a small smile as he began walking toward me, matching his playful tone.

But the closer he came, the more uncomfortable I felt under his gaze. His eyes moved slowly over me in a way that made my skin warm, as though he could see more than he should.

Instantly, more memories of the night before rushed into my mind. And from the look in his eyes, I knew he remembered too.

The realization made my breath catch. I dropped my eyes quickly, suddenly shy under his steady gaze.

He stopped in front of me. “How was your night?”

The question made my blush deepen. I smiled, a little embarrassed by it.

Of course, he knew how my night had been. We both did. It had been passionate. Intense. I had felt things I’d never imagined before.

His fingers slipped gently beneath my chin, tipping my face upward until I had no choice but to look at him. “Did you sleep well?” he asked softly.

“Yeah.” I nodded.

His gaze lingered on my face for a moment longer. “Are you okay?”

He had been so gentle with me last night, yet he was still checking to make sure I was alright… that he hadn’t hurt me. The gesture warmed my heart.

“Yes.”

“Good.” He leaned down and kissed me.

The kiss was slow, warm, lingering. It sent a familiar tingling warmth throughout my entire body.

When he finally pulled back, I blinked up at him, slightly breathless. “You’re making breakfast?”

“For my wife,” he said fondly, his hands sliding to my shoulders as he caressed them.

“What about Rosa? The maids?”

“I gave them the night off,” he replied. “And the morning too. They’ll be back around noon.”

“Oh.” That explained the silence in the house. “No wonder everywhere is so quiet.” Then suddenly, another thought struck me. “Wait, what about Ashley and her mum?”

“In the guest wing.”

I stared at him with a frown. Before I could say anything, he continued, almost as if he had already guessed my concern.

“They insisted. The house is big enough, but they thought we should have some privacy on our first night together.” He shrugged lightly. “Besides, they’re leaving tomorrow, so they didn’t mind.”

The mention of our first night together made my cheeks warm all over again. Suddenly very aware of his body so close, I stepped past him and walked further into the kitchen.

Up close, the breakfast spread on the island looked even more impressive than it had from across the room.

“You really made all these?”

I couldn’t help my surprise. I turned around, watching him empty the pan and pour another circle of batter onto the hot surface with practiced ease before turning to look at me.

“Well… not everything,” he admitted with a faint smile. “Rosa helped with the croissants. She came in early this morning to bake them.”

“Wow. I’m impressed.”

“Are you?” he asked, stepping closer, slowly covering the distance between us in a way that made my pulse quicken.

His eyes moved over me, taking in everything about my appearance, from my dress to my hair.

“You look beautiful,” he murmured suddenly, as though it had something to do with what we were talking about.

His hand lifted to my face, his thumb brushing lightly against my lower lip.

My lips parted as a shaky breath slipped out in anticipation of the kiss I knew was coming.

But he didn’t kiss me. Instead, he surprised me, moving his fingers to the back of my head, loosening the bun I had tied earlier.

Gently, he freed my hair, combing his fingers through it and smoothening the strands as they fell over my shoulders.

“I like it better this way,” he said, his gaze darkening slightly as he looked at me.

Something in the air between us changed. Before I could even react, he suddenly bent and grabbed my thighs.

A startled breath escaped me as my feet left the floor. In one easy motion, he picked me up as though I weighed nothing at all and set me down on the kitchen island.

I barely had time to steady myself before he stepped forward, moving between my thighs. I could feel the heat of his body so close to mine, the steady rise and fall of his breathing.

My breath caught in my throat. The hungry look in his eyes sent a shiver through me.