Read Online Heir Untamed by Danielle Bourdon - Free Book Online Page B

picture?”
    “Cheaters and losers are required to make the winner lunch,” she retorted. His smart comments amused her now, rather than annoyed her. A welcome change from their abrasive first meeting.
    “You're on. You get to clean up the rest of this, then, while I get started.” He waved dismissively at the remains of their Scrabble game.
    Chey muttered loud enough for him to hear. She was positive that he wouldn't know the first thing about cooking. He'd probably filched meals from the castle as a child like everyone else, leaving him short on culinary knowledge. Scooping the tiles into her palm, she dumped them into a baggie, then situated everything in the Scrabble box just so before sliding on the lid.
    “You want something more potent to drink? Wine, a mixed cocktail?” he asked from the kitchen.
    “Isn't it a little early to hit the alcohol?” Chey wondered if he was a drinker. He seemed familiar with booze. She set the Scrabble box exactly against the edge of the table, perfectly aligned and straight.
    “It's supposed to be my day off, and I'm pretty sure it's noon somewhere, to use a familiar phrase.” He took down two highball glasses from a cupboard, then opened the refrigerator door.
    “Supposed to be? Oh. Me. I almost forgot that this is work for you.” She approached the bar at the edge of the kitchen and plopped down onto a barstool. From her vantage, she could see everything Sander was doing. As well as the gunstill poking up from the back of his jeans.
    He cut another wolfish grin over his shoulder. “I'm not officially on the clock, so I'm allowed a drink. What's your favorite?”
    “Lately it's been watermelon vodka over Sprite. It changes monthly.”
    “Mm. I know I don't have watermelon vodka, but I have the makings for a Tequila Sunrise.”
    “That actually sounds pretty good. It was my drink about two years ago.” Chey watched him fish out the tequila, a top shelf brand, orange juice from the fridge and grenadine last.
    “So, what, you cycle through drinks as soon as you're sick of them?” he asked, deftly pouring the ingredients into one of the highball glasses.
    “Pretty much. Doesn't everyone?” She murmured her thanks when he delivered the glass to the counter top.
    “I don't know. I think people usually find something they like and mostly stick to that. Not that you can't order whatever else, but I tend to see people picking favorites.” He returned to the alcohol and poured himself wine instead of a mixed drink. Then he started taking out packages and things from the fridge.
    There were worse places she could be, Chey decided, than sitting in a fine cabin in the middle of the woods watching a man with a physique like that make lunch. Even if the lunch would probably taste like shredded cardboard. If only there hadn't been a shooter in the woods earlier, this would have turned out to be a rather pleasant day. A shocking revelation considering the first meeting she'd had with Sander.
    “You sound like you know from experience.” Chey sipped at the Sunrise, finding it perfectly mixed.
    He took a frying pan out from under a cupboard and arched a brow over his shoulder at her. “I do get out once in a while, you know. It's not all work, all the time.”
    “Yes? And what do you do for fun? Besides provoke innocent women.” Chey buried a grin into her drink when he snorted.
    “I provoke non- innocent women.” He leveled a specific look at her, laughter in his eyes, and turned back to the stove. Shortly, the distinct scent of cooking steak filled the kitchen.
    “Are you saying I'm one of the non-innocent? Sander Fisk, how dare you.” Playfully petulant, she leaned an arm on the counter, glass curled in her fingers.
    “I know, right? I'm playing with fire.” He worked while he talked, more efficient in the kitchen than Chey would have given him credit for.
    “What else?” she asked.
    “It might be more appropriate to ask what I don't do. I enjoy hiking, fishing, rock