Chapter 9 – Bellamy #2
He doesn’t even look up or acknowledge me. What would happen if I flashed him? Obviously, I won’t. I’m way classier than that and the children are here. But the idea of rattling his cage a little is even more delicious than these cookies will be.
“A movie night,” Sabrina tells him, jumping up and down. “We’re baking cookies, and after supper, we’re going to make popcorn and watch a movie. All of us,” she tells him as if he doesn’t have a choice in this. “That means you too, Papa. We’re going to watch Shrek. Bellamy says it’s funny.”
And the mother isn’t dead in it the way they are in many other children’s films.
“Hmm.” He glances at me, and I can tell he wants to argue this, but the kids are too excited for him to resist. Zayer starts pulling on his pants, and Sebastian bends down to pick him up and tosses him up in the air once before he catches him. Zayer squeals in delight.
“What will you do when you’re too big for me to pick up?” Sebastian kisses his forehead and rubs his nose against his. I inwardly simper. Zayer nuzzles into him, sucking on his fourth and fifth fingers.
“And we’re going to make chicken fingers and mac and cheese one night for dinner.” Phaedra moves against him and whispers up with her hand cupped over her mouth, “Don’t worry, they’re not real fingers. Bellamy promised us.”
“Chicken fingers and mac and cheese? Cookies? Popcorn? Bellamy seems to be promising all sorts of new things with you.” The king’s stony countenance and glacial eyes meet mine.
Oh boy. That look alone makes my pulse race.
I shrug, folding my arms and leaning my hip against the messy counter, feigning indifference.
“Sounds good to me. We thought it might be fun to make a different dish once a week from another country or other regions,” I tell him, refusing to be intimidated.
“It will help them learn about the world and other cultures as well as how to cook.”
He grunts. Not much to argue there when you make it educational.
“So do you think Your Majesty can manage some cookies, popcorn, and a movie?”
He crosses the room and stands before me, eyes all over my face. I expect him to say something about my slightly sarcastic tone. Instead, he uses the hand not holding Zayer to wipe away something from my cheek. He pops his finger into his mouth, licking off what is likely cookie dough or chocolate.
My jaw drops and an odd mix between a gasp and a moan slips out.
“Delicious,” he murmurs, his eyes glittering with intensity and something else I can’t name. “I suppose if the cookies taste half as good as that, I won’t have a choice but to eat them.”
It’s the most erotic thing anyone has ever said or done to me. Which I acknowledge is sad, but right now, I don’t care. He’s hardly paid me any attention since that first morning I was here. Nothing all week. Now this? It’s unexpected to say the least.
“Glad to hear that.” That’s all I’ve got. I’ve never learned how to be sexy or seductive. Not that I’m trying with the king.
“Throw you off balance?”
I smile, unable to stop it. “Just a bit. Was that your goal?”
“That was for Monday. I think we’re even now and can move past it.”
“Huh?” My brows furrow until I realize what he just did. He flirted the way I did with him. “Did you just seriously—”
“Didn’t like it, did you?”
Is he kidding? I loved it.
“No. It was awful. Your touch is like zombie mice crawling on my skin.”
His lips twitch, and I can’t tell in which direction they’re headed, north or south, smirk or frown. “Then you know exactly how it was for me.”
“Since we’re discussing things we don’t like, I don’t like you ignoring me. It doesn’t create the best work environment since I care for your children.”
“I don’t like you filling my children with junk food and telling them they can watch a movie I haven’t approved. So I guess we both have things we’re going to have to learn how to manage.”
“Guess so.”
I assume that means he’s going to continue to avoid and ignore me.
But why? Because I think I’m doing a good job.
I mean, I’m not perfect. I make mistakes.
A lot of mistakes. Like, if you don’t make sure Zayer is actually down for his nap, he’ll get up and leave his room.
Honestly, I think the boy is done with naps for how long it takes to get him down.
Or if Phaedra’s school outfit isn’t perfect or if her breakfast isn’t just so or if her school backpack isn’t set just right, then she has a rough day at school.
I wonder if she has a bit of PTSD, because control and predictability are comforts to her.
A hundred guesses on why. And Sabrina’s mind and body are always going, so if she’s not constantly stimulated in some way, she gets cranky or seeks out trouble.
But all of these things are learning curves. Things perhaps their father could have told me if he were ever to speak to me.
The timer goes off on my phone, signaling the cookies are done. Dragging myself away from the king, I slip on oven mitts and pull the trays out of the oven, transferring the cookies that look and smell incredible onto a plate.
“Can we have one now, Papa?”
“After supper,” he tells Phaedra.
The gloves drop back on the counter after the last cookie is moved and then I attack the mess, making sure everything is cleaned up.
“How about we go get washed up?” I breeze past Sebastian and take Sabrina’s hand.
I pull Zayer from his arms and go to leave.
But I make another mistake. This one far more costly than any of the others I’ve committed so far.
I turn and glance back over my shoulder.
Our gazes lock. His glacial blue-gray eyes are somehow warmer than before as they stare, a smolder that breathes heat and life into dormant crevices within me. I want to melt into him. Dissolve.
His pupils round as tension crackles between us, followed by a palpable silence.
I can’t tell what he’s thinking. He’s perfected the art of hiding his emotions.
I only wish I had the same skill set. Just one look from him does terrible things to me.
Especially when he runs a hand through his hair and a finger across his bottom lip, all without removing his eyes from me.
I stifle a sound. I wonder if he has any clue how unfairly handsome he is.
Plus, I can’t deny I like the flirting. Both giving and receiving. It’s the best high I’ve had in too long.
Sabrina jerking on my arm tugs me out of the spell I’m under. But it’s too late. The damage is done. For the first time since stepping foot in this palace, I wonder if curses are real. Only this curse is on me and no one else.
Because I might have a small, misplaced thing for my boss. And I have zero clue what the fuck I’m going to do about it.