Ruthless King (New Orleans Malones #4)

Chapter 12

12

T his was going to be a disaster.

Calm down, Jilly.

You have this.

“Mrs. Y, the sauce isn’t working!” she cried into the phone frantically. “It’s all runny.”

“Just add some more flour,” Mrs. Yards told her. “Are you sure you don’t want me to come over and make it?”

“No! I have to do this myself.” She didn’t know why, but she owed Regent. And she wanted to feed him herself. “Thanks, though. I appreciate the help.”

“I just think you should have made something a bit easier, dearie.”

“What’s easier than roast lamb with roast potatoes, cauliflower with cheese, and green beans wrapped in bacon?” she asked.

“Cheese on toast?” Mrs. Yards suggested.

“Mrs. Y!” She stared down at her sauce. Now, it was all lumpy. “It’s gone lumpy now!”

“Oh, you must have added too much flour. More milk.”

She groaned. Then the doorbell rang, making her freeze. “I’ve gotta go! He’s here.”

“Good luck, dearie. And remember, don’t eat too much. It’s hard to get down and dirty with a full stomach. You want to eat enough to have energy but not so much that you feel bloated and gassy.”

“Awesome. Thanks for the advice.”

“No problem, dearie. You’ve got the toys I sent over?”

“Yes,” she groaned as she walked to the door. “Bye.” Jilly took a breath, then opened the door.

Regent stood there in a dark blue shirt and black pants. He had a suit jacket over his shirt.

His hair was slicked back. He looked so deliciously handsome that it took her a moment to remember that she actually had to breathe if she wanted to stay alive.

He held a bottle of wine.

His eyes seemed to widen as he took her in. “Jilly? Is everything okay?”

What? Why was he asking that?

“Yes, of course.”

His gaze ran over her and she glanced down at herself.

Oh shit!

She still had her apron on and it was covered in all sorts of mess.

Crap. She’d forgotten to take it off.

“I, um, sorry! I wasn’t expecting you yet. I just need to get ready. Come in.”

He was polite enough not to point out that he was on time, not early. She rushed him into the living room.

“Would you like a drink? Beer? Cider? Scotch?”

“You have those things?” he asked, his lips nearly curving up into a smile.

“Well, not the Scotch . . .” she trailed off. Idiot. Why did she ask him if he wanted Scotch when she didn’t have any?

“I’m fine. Thank you.”

“All right, I’m just going to go get ready. Sorry. Oh, wait. I’ve got cheese and crackers.”

Rushing into the kitchen, she drew out the plate of food she’d put there earlier. Maybe he’d fill up on cheese and crackers and wouldn’t care that the main course was shit.

One could hope, anyway.

Running back to the living room, she slowed down as she got there.

Chill.

Be calm.

Crap. She’d forgotten to stir the sauce.

Oh well, it would be fine. She entered the living room. “Here you are. I’ll be just a minute.”

He gave her a look that she couldn’t decipher, but Jilly turned away before he could say anything.

Tonight was not working out how she’d thought. She’d wanted to show him another side of her. That she could cook and entertain. That she could dress up and look pretty.

That she wasn’t the girl he’d once known but a woman.

She hadn’t allowed herself to think much past that, but she guessed a part of her had hoped he’d find her attractive. Sexy.

Urgh. Face it. Sex with Regent Malone was something that was constantly on her mind.

What would he think if she put on a slinky negligee and walked into the living room, got to her knees in front of him and offered to suck him off?

He’d have to say yes, right?

But what if he said no? Darn it. She didn’t have the courage to do that. She turned to stare at herself in the mirror and let out a cry of horror.

What . . . how . . . why?

Why hadn’t she checked what she looked like before she’d opened the door?

No wonder he’d asked her if everything was all right. She looked like she’d wrestled with a bag of flour and lost.

There was flour in her hair, all over her apron, and a big patch on her face. Not to mention the other stains on her apron.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Panicked, she moved around frantically. Stripping off, she pulled on the dress she’d chosen earlier. It was white and long with pleats coming down from the chest. The short sleeves were a new thing for her, but she grabbed a light cardigan to put on top.

She thought she looked all right. Or she would once she redid her hair and washed her face. As she headed out of the bedroom, feeling better, the scent of smoke hit her.

Oh no! Something was on fire!

“Jilly!” Regent called out from the kitchen.

She raced in to find him opening the oven. Black smoke flew into his face, making him cough.

“Watch out!” she cried, rushing to the kitchen sink. “I have it!”

Opening the cupboard under the sink, she got out the fire extinguisher.

“Jilly, open the windows,” he told her commandingly. “Stay back.”

“No! Get away!” She aimed the fire extinguisher at the oven.

Suddenly, Regent plucked it out of her hands, then picking her up with his free arm around her waist, he carried her out of the room.

“What are you doing? I have to put the fire out!”

“There’s no fire, just smoke.”

“But . . . but the saying goes where there’s smoke there’s fire.”

“Not sure that saying is about actual fire.”

Well. That was confusing.

“Stay here while I take care of this.” He turned away.

Stay here? Was he crazy?

This was her responsibility. She wouldn’t leave him to just clean everything up.

So, as soon as he walked into the kitchen, she followed him. He paused.

“Jillian.”

“Yes?”

“In case I didn’t make myself clear before, you’re to remain in the hall or the living room or go outside for some fresh air until I come back for you. Understand?”

“But I can help. This is my kitchen.”

“You’re not helping. The smoke isn’t good for your lungs. Now, you either obey me or you and I are going to have a very long conversation about obedience.”

Yikes.

She should tell him that he had no right to boss her around. And that she wasn’t ever going to obey him.

Right. That’s what she should do.

So why did she find herself turning away and going out into the hallway?

Her feet were moving before her brain caught up to what she was thinking.

Noticing that the smoke smell had drifted through the house, she moved to the living room to open the windows.

Urgh. It was so hot and sticky outside, and she was letting out all the cool air.

But it couldn’t be helped.

Drat. She probably smelled like smoke too. And now her new outfit was ruined.

How had this ended up being such a disaster?