the man’s sister? Why had he agreed? Was he looking to be in a more
traditional relationship? Could she be that woman for him?
“Jasmine.” Her mother’s voice snapped her from her musings.
The raise of her brow warned her to stop mentally checking out. “Mitchell was
just complimenting your vegetables.”
“Yes.” He cleared his throat. “This is an excellent meal.”
“Thank you,” she replied with a gracious smile.
“All of the women in the family are good cooks,” Oksana
said. “We take pride in providing for our family. Make our men happy to come
home after a hard day at work.”
Jasmine restrained an eye roll. What an absolutely
prehistoric statement.
“All except for Jaz.” Emil chuckled around a mouthful of
beef. “She works too much—ow.” He jumped in his seat and glared at Bruno who
ate without a hint of knowledge as to what had made Emil react as he did.
Jasmine suspected it was a swift kick to the shin to keep him from ruining her
chances at landing a husband.
Mitchell didn’t appear to notice and rounded on her with
enthusiasm. “What do you do for a living?”
She rolled a baby carrot across her plate and cleared her
throat. “I’m a doctor in the emergency room at Schuster–Siegel Hospital.”
“You’re a doctor? I didn’t know that.” He caught himself and
hastily added, “I mean, you look so young to be so accomplished. Do you enjoy
it?”
“I do. It’s very rewarding.”
“I bet.” He smiled and she felt her lips curl to match his
warmth. “What do you like best about being a doctor?”
Oksana interrupted, “Jasmine, let’s not bore our guest with
the tedious details of your job. Besides, your work is only temporary until you
find a husband and settle down. To make a family of her own is her passion,
Mitchell.”
“It is?” he asked her with a puzzled frown.
“No.”
“Yes,” Bruno interjected. “Jasmine. Clear the table and
fetch us our dessert.”
With a curt nod, she stood and picked up her and Mitch’s
plates, avoiding his gaze as she kept to her task.
For the rest of the meal she kept her mouth shut with only
the occasional single-word answer, if required. It was the longest forty-five
minutes of her life as she listened to her parents feed Mitch misconceptions as
to who she was as a person and her life’s goals.
The more her parents spoke, the more relaxed Mitch became
during the conversation, even to the point of holding out his cup in her
direction while she poured coffee before she had the opportunity to ask him if
he wanted any. When she gave him the look she reserved when he presumed to know
what she wanted of him, he blanched and his hand shook. In one evening her
family had undone months of training.
Once the kitchen was cleaned and the men were partaking of
their brandies, Jasmine was more than ready to go home. “Gentlemen, if you will
excuse me, I have to work in the morning and must be off. Mitchell, it was nice
to meet you.”
He jumped to his feet. “I must be going too. May I walk you
to your car?”
“Yes, yes.” Her mother beamed. “That is an excellent idea.”
She kissed her family goodnight and allowed Mitch to help
her slip on her jacket. Together they walked side by side in silence. She
passed her vehicle and led him around to the bushes bordering the driveway.
Mitch spoke first, which surprised her. Another example of
how he had forgotten he wasn’t to speak unless directed to. Then again, they
weren’t in the club to remind him of his place. “I can see why you are the way
you are. Your family is very…old fashioned.”
“That’s a way to phrase it,” she muttered then drew in a
breath. “Mitch—”
He shook his head and his breath quickened. “I’m Army. Your
Army. And I don’t like that look in your eyes right now.”
She licked her lips. Best to cut right to the chase, no
matter how much it hurt. “I can’t be your Mistress anymore.”
“No,” he shouted before she finished the
traditional relationship? Could she be that woman for him?
“Jasmine.” Her mother’s voice snapped her from her musings.
The raise of her brow warned her to stop mentally checking out. “Mitchell was
just complimenting your vegetables.”
“Yes.” He cleared his throat. “This is an excellent meal.”
“Thank you,” she replied with a gracious smile.
“All of the women in the family are good cooks,” Oksana
said. “We take pride in providing for our family. Make our men happy to come
home after a hard day at work.”
Jasmine restrained an eye roll. What an absolutely
prehistoric statement.
“All except for Jaz.” Emil chuckled around a mouthful of
beef. “She works too much—ow.” He jumped in his seat and glared at Bruno who
ate without a hint of knowledge as to what had made Emil react as he did.
Jasmine suspected it was a swift kick to the shin to keep him from ruining her
chances at landing a husband.
Mitchell didn’t appear to notice and rounded on her with
enthusiasm. “What do you do for a living?”
She rolled a baby carrot across her plate and cleared her
throat. “I’m a doctor in the emergency room at Schuster–Siegel Hospital.”
“You’re a doctor? I didn’t know that.” He caught himself and
hastily added, “I mean, you look so young to be so accomplished. Do you enjoy
it?”
“I do. It’s very rewarding.”
“I bet.” He smiled and she felt her lips curl to match his
warmth. “What do you like best about being a doctor?”
Oksana interrupted, “Jasmine, let’s not bore our guest with
the tedious details of your job. Besides, your work is only temporary until you
find a husband and settle down. To make a family of her own is her passion,
Mitchell.”
“It is?” he asked her with a puzzled frown.
“No.”
“Yes,” Bruno interjected. “Jasmine. Clear the table and
fetch us our dessert.”
With a curt nod, she stood and picked up her and Mitch’s
plates, avoiding his gaze as she kept to her task.
For the rest of the meal she kept her mouth shut with only
the occasional single-word answer, if required. It was the longest forty-five
minutes of her life as she listened to her parents feed Mitch misconceptions as
to who she was as a person and her life’s goals.
The more her parents spoke, the more relaxed Mitch became
during the conversation, even to the point of holding out his cup in her
direction while she poured coffee before she had the opportunity to ask him if
he wanted any. When she gave him the look she reserved when he presumed to know
what she wanted of him, he blanched and his hand shook. In one evening her
family had undone months of training.
Once the kitchen was cleaned and the men were partaking of
their brandies, Jasmine was more than ready to go home. “Gentlemen, if you will
excuse me, I have to work in the morning and must be off. Mitchell, it was nice
to meet you.”
He jumped to his feet. “I must be going too. May I walk you
to your car?”
“Yes, yes.” Her mother beamed. “That is an excellent idea.”
She kissed her family goodnight and allowed Mitch to help
her slip on her jacket. Together they walked side by side in silence. She
passed her vehicle and led him around to the bushes bordering the driveway.
Mitch spoke first, which surprised her. Another example of
how he had forgotten he wasn’t to speak unless directed to. Then again, they
weren’t in the club to remind him of his place. “I can see why you are the way
you are. Your family is very…old fashioned.”
“That’s a way to phrase it,” she muttered then drew in a
breath. “Mitch—”
He shook his head and his breath quickened. “I’m Army. Your
Army. And I don’t like that look in your eyes right now.”
She licked her lips. Best to cut right to the chase, no
matter how much it hurt. “I can’t be your Mistress anymore.”
“No,” he shouted before she finished the
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