Seducing You: How to Marry a Billionaire Three, page 9
But no one is focused on me. Ariel’s leg is bleeding. Sebastian wraps a kitchen towel around it while Evangeline hovers over her. They move her to the table where she sits in a chair.
I walk over and kneel to take a look. “I’m so sorry, love. I didn’t realize I was so close to the bowl. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” she says. “This is hardly the worst thing to splash all over my legs. It’s just a shallow cut.”
Evangeline has gone paler than usual. “What exactly happened?”
“Katie called me to return to our station, and I must have…” I shake my head, flustered. “I nudged the bowl of shrimp or something. I’m happy to help you remake the shrimp. Whatever the two of you need.”
“Who cares about the shrimp?” Sebastian says. “Ariel, are you sure you’re all right? It doesn’t look like a shallow cut to me. You’ve already soaked through this towel.”
“I’m fine. I promise.”
Marc joins us at the table. “I’ve got more shrimp. I’ll peel and devein them and remake the marinade. This won’t affect dinner at all.”
“Hello?” Sebastian, still inspecting Ariel’s calf, glares at him. “Who gives two shits about the dinner? She’s hurt. She’s bleeding here. Sugar, I hope this doesn’t leave a scar on those gorgeous gams of yours.”
“I’ve got scars on scars from running around barefoot as a kid at home,” Ariel says. “I’m not worried about that. It smarts, though. I need some Bactine or something.”
“I’m not making light of her injury,” Marc says. “All I meant was that you two did a bang-up job on the shrimp and slaw, and it won’t make any difference if I remake the marinade and prepare the shrimp.”
Sebastian scowls at him as he helps Ariel up. “Let’s get you bandaged.” He turns to Evangeline. “Evie, where are the medical supplies?”
“Follow me,” she says.
Once Evangeline, Sebastian, and Ariel leave the kitchen, Marc and I are left at the table.
“This is all my fault,” I say. “Please let me help you remake the shrimp.”
“That’s a kind offer”—he smiles—“but I think Katie needs you at your own station.”
I shake my head. “Misty has it under control. I’d feel much better if I could do something.”
“We still have plenty of time. We weren’t going to sauté the shrimp until right before we eat, and Desi still has to grill his jerk chicken, which will take some time.”
“I should at least do something to make up for such a glaring faux pas.”
“I’d love to work with you.” There’s a flirtatious edge to his tone. “But I’ll have this done in no time. I can peel and devein shrimp in my sleep.”
“All right,” I concede. “I’m just going to check on Ariel then.”
I whisk out of the kitchen without making eye contact with Katie or Misty.
But I have no intention of checking on Ariel. I’m concerned, but I have no doubt that Sebastian and Evangeline have things under control. Besides, why would Ariel want to see me?
I walk to the front door of the mansion and step outside into the sunny late afternoon.
Now what?
If anything, I’ve probably helped Ariel and Sebastian’s chances. The others will feel sorry for them and vote for them. Maybe.
Bloody hell, I don’t know.
I take a few deep breaths and attempt to relax. No, that’s not going to happen. One more deep breath and then I enter the mansion and head to the kitchen. Sebastian has returned, but Marc is now gone.
Not my problem.
“Sorry,” I say to Katie.
“It’s okay.” She smiles. “I’m sure you needed a breather. But things happen in a kitchen. I’ve lost count of how many bowls I’ve broken over the years.”
Misty is seeding a small orange pepper.
“What do you need me to do?” I ask Katie.
“I’ve taken the aromatics off the burner,” she says. “Marc says we need to give him about fifteen minutes to redo the shrimp that was lost, and then we’ll add the pepper that Misty’s chopping to the pan, adjust the heat, and add the greens.”
I nod. “So for now?”
“For now, relax. Watch the others. Would you like another Island Mirage?”
“No, thank you.” More alcohol would not be a good thing in my current state of mind.
“Okay, then.” She looks over at Misty. “Nice job, Misty. You can discard the small seeds and chop the pepper finely. Don’t take off your gloves and don’t touch your face. The capsaicin in the oil will bring you to tears. If you ladies will excuse me for a minute, I need to hit the little girls’ room.”
Once Katie is gone, Misty motions me toward her.
Now what?
“Impressive,” she says under her breath.
“Are you kidding me?”
“Breaking that bowl? Taking out Ariel? And to think I wasn’t sure you had it in you.”
Anger curls at the back of my neck. “Wait just a minute. Ariel’s fine, and what happened was an accident.”
“Oh, Emily, there are no accidents.” She gives me a sly smile. “Maybe I’m not the biggest threat here after all.”
EPISODE 99
BANDAGE AND FLIRT
Ariel
Sebastian and Evangeline usher me to one of the large bathrooms on the first floor, where Sebastian sets me down on the toilet. I let out a tiny shriek as my thighs hit the cold porcelain.
“You doing okay, sugar?” he asks.
“Yes, it’s just cold. I’m fine. I told you, this is nothing. I’ve been hurt way worse while helping Mama around the house. There’s no need to make such a fuss.”
Sebastian smiles. My God, he’s gorgeous.
“Of course we’ll make a fuss,” he says. “What was Emily thinking?”
“It was an accident,” I tell him. “I’m sure of it.”
Although…Heather and I did catch Emily coming out of Misty’s room earlier, and she said things had gotten more interesting.
What did she mean by that? I didn’t ask. Part of me didn’t want to know, so I didn’t pry. Besides, we were called down to the kitchen soon afterward and I didn’t have another chance to ask her. Emily was the first friend I made here, and I believe in her—even if her smile was somewhat off when she came out of Misty’s suite.
Sebastian wraps a towel around my wound while Evangeline runs some water. I can’t help but notice how much paler she is than usual, and the look on her face… I’ve seen it before, on my own face—just as I’m about to hurl.
“You okay?” I ask her.
She grips the edge of the counter. “Yes, fine, of course.” She turns off the faucet and squeezes the excess water from the cloth. “Here.” She places it on my forehead. “This will help.”
It’s a cold compress, which would make sense if I had a headache or a fever, but I don’t.
“Evie,” Sebastian says. “What’s that for?”
“I don’t know. I figured it might make me feel better, at least.” Evangeline shakes her head. “We should have an on-site nurse or medic.”
Sebastian opens his mouth to speak when Marc walks in. “How’s our patient?” he asks.
“How do you think?” Sebastian growls.
I sigh. “I’m fine.”
“Don’t you have shrimp to devein?” Sebastian asks.
“I’m done. A new batch is peeled, deveined, and marinating, so I thought I’d see if I can assist here.”
“Because you think there might be some kind of cooking emergency?” Sebastian rolls his eyes.
I’m not sure why Sebastian is being so rude to Marc. It’s not like him at all.
“Fuck,” Sebastian says then, as if I got through to him with ESP or something. “I’m sorry. I just can’t stand that she got hurt.”
“I understand,” Marc replies. “In fact, that’s why I’m here. Every place I’ve ever worked has required chefs to have first aid training.”
I raise my eyebrows. “Why?”
“Because of situations like this one. Kitchen accidents are common. We work with sharp knives, after all. Let me have a look.”
“Are you okay with Marc taking a look, Ariel?” Evangeline asks.
“Sure, but I’m fine.”
Marc kneels next to me and removes the towel.
“Will she need stitches?” Evangeline asks. “Do I need to call the mainland?”
Could she be any more dramatic? Evangeline isn’t doing anything for my mental state, and I wish she’d leave. I wish Sebastian would leave as well. I think he’s hot and a great fuck, but right now, the two of them are hovering over me like a couple june bugs on a hot summer night buzzing around my face. I almost feel like swatting them away.
How can I get them to leave? This is a big bathroom, but it’s getting pretty crowded.
“Evangeline,” I say, “I’m thirsty. Could you get me some ice water? And maybe an icepack for the pain?”
“Yes, of course.” She walks toward the door.
“And Sebastian?”
“What do you need, sweetheart?”
“Nothing. I just want you to go back to the kitchen. Someone should be there representing our team.”
“Don’t be silly,” he says. “I’m not leaving you alone in here.”
“I’m not alone. Marc is here, and he has first aid training.” I give him a weak smile. “I’m just feeling a little overwhelmed is all. I need some space.”
“You sure?” Sebastian asks.
“Yeah, and thanks for taking such good care of me.”
Sebastian and Evangeline leave the bathroom, and I sigh in relief. “Thank God. I felt like horseflies were swarming around me.”
Marc chuckles. “They’re right to be concerned.” He looks closely at my leg. “These accidents can be messy, but the good news is that you’re not going to need stitches. The cut is shallow, and a couple butterfly bandages will hold this together just fine. You may have a light scar, but no more than you’d have with stitches anyway.” He reaches into the first aid kit that Evangeline brought in.
“Ow!” I say when he slides a cool wipe over the cut.
“Sorry, but we have to make sure it’s clean. There’s an anesthetic in the wipe, so the sting will stop in a minute.”
“It feels better now.” I smile down at him as he carefully closes the wound with the butterfly bandages.
Marc’s touch is gentle and caring as he wipes my leg after he’s done dressing the wound. “A shame. You have beautiful legs, Ariel.”
My cheeks warm. “Thank you.”
“Have you enjoyed your stay here so far?” he asks as he rises and rinses out the towel in the sink.
“What’s not to enjoy?” I ask. “I’m in a tropical paradise with four handsome men”—I breathe in, gather my courage—“and a gorgeous chef.”
He turns and gives me a face-splitting grin. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
I smile coyly. “How do you know I’m not talking about Katie?”
He laughs then. A big and joyful laugh that makes my toes curl.
“Katie is indeed gorgeous,” Marc agrees. “She and I have known each other since culinary school.”
“Known in what sense?”
He laughs again. “Just friends. Friends who crossed the line into friends with benefits only once.”
Interesting. A spike of something—not quite jealousy, but something like it—hits my tummy. I like Marc, and he’s quite a hottie with his dark hair and blue eyes. His accent is clearly American.
“Where are you from?” I ask.
“Mississippi.”
“No kidding? I’m from Alabama.”
“So we’re practically neighbors.” He squeezes the water out of the towel.
“You don’t have a southern accent like I do,” I say.
“My family moved to Mississippi when I was ten, so I never developed one, but yours is adorable, Ariel.”
My cheeks warm further. Marc is sweet and kind—not to mention hot as hell—and I sure wouldn’t mind a little action on the side with him.
“How long have you been a chef?” I ask.
“Just a couple years. I was lucky to get this gig. Katie’s Jamaican, so she was working over on the mainland when she was called for this event, and she recommended me. It’s been fun working with her again.”
“Just working?” I can’t help asking.
He chuckles. “Just working. Katie’s in a relationship now.” He kneels back down to look at my leg.
“Will I live?”
“Not only will you live”—he strokes the skin just under my wound, sending chills through me—“I think your legs will be prettier than ever.”
A jolt of pleasure shoots through me at his words. “I never knew wound care was part of a chef’s service.”
He smiles. “Only for our most esteemed guests.”
“Damsels in distress who are klutzes in the kitchen?” I return his smile.
“Only adorable klutzes.” He strokes my calf once more.
I’m warm all over, and Marc grabs both my hands, his full lips parted.
Oh my God… He’s going to kiss me.
I want him to kiss me.
Except I didn’t come here to—
A knock on the door and then it opens.
I gulp. Sebastian stands, his frame large in the doorway, holding a glass of ice water.
Marc jerks into a stand. “She’s going to be fine. I got her all cleaned and bandaged. The cut was shallow, and she’s a good clotter.”
Sebastian raises his eyebrows. “That so?”
“Uh…yeah.” Marc heads to the doorway. “I’d better get back to the kitchen. Those shrimps won’t sauté themselves.”
Sebastian kneels next to me and hands me the glass of water. “Everything okay now?”
“Sure.” I nod.
But a strange feeling of guilt washes over me, as if I’ve been caught with my hand in the cookie jar.
EPISODE 100
CLAWS AND EFFECT
River
So much for me no longer being a buzzkill. All I can think of is the lawsuit waiting to happen first from Rachel and now from Ariel.
They all signed contracts, and we’re well insured, but still…
How is this even happening?
I look over at Misty and Emily’s station. Misty’s influence is destructive. What are the odds her partner could be behind such an accident? But Emily was the one who knocked the glass bowl of shrimp off the counter. She’s the one who caused Ariel to get hurt. Could it all truly be one big coincidence?
I get that Evangeline wanted to get everyone’s mind off Rachel’s accident yesterday and Sienna’s departure today, but damn… Ariel wouldn’t be injured if we’d stayed the hell out of the kitchen.
June chatters on, never missing a chance to slide her hand over my arm or shoulder. Sometimes right on my chest, since I’m shirtless. I can take care of that, at least. I walk to the pantry where several aprons hang and put one on over my head, tying it in the back. I return to my station.
June frowns. “Such a shame to cover you up, River.”
I say nothing. Desi has taken the jerk chicken outside to the grill. When he returns, we’ll begin the grilled lobster. A large stockpot is already on the stove, and the water is boiling.
Despite my better judgment, I glance toward Emily.
Her face is tense. The feminine curve of her cheekbones seems more angular and rigid. She avoids making eye contact with anyone. Every now and then, she shifts her weight from one foot to the other. Her discomfort is palpable, and part of me longs to go to her, to offer her comfort.
But approaching Emily also means approaching Misty, and I’d prefer to stay as far away from her as possible.
I’m saved when Desi returns from the grill. A wide smile splits his face. “Why did the chicken cross the road?” he asks.
“To get to the other side, of course!” June laughs and fondles Desi’s arm this time.
“Wrong, Miss June. To get to your plate!”
I stop my eyes from rolling.
“Who’s ready for lobster?” Desi asks, picking up one of the live lobsters and pretending to claw June with it.
She giggles, and then Desi plunges it into the stockpot.
The crustacean lets out a high hiss as it hits the boiling water, and June hides her head against my chest. “I love lobster, but I hate this part.”
I wrap my arms around her, offering her some comfort, though the woman I wish I could comfort is Emily.
“Don’t worry, pretty lady,” Desi says. “They don’t feel a thing.”
June peeks back at Desi. “I think I’ll leave the dunking to you and River.”
After a few seconds, Desi pulls the lobster—bright red now—out with tongs and puts it in a bath of ice water.
June excuses herself for a moment.
“I guess it’s just you and me,” I say.
“I’ll take care of the lobsters.” Desi grabs another and places it in the boiling water. “It only takes a moment because they’ll cook fully later on the grill. If you want to take a break and make sure she’s okay, be my guest.”
“Sure. Thanks.”
I walk toward Emily, not thinking, but when she meets my gaze I turn and make a beeline toward June, who headed out onto the deck. I find her by the grill, watching Desi’s assistant cook the chicken. I inhale the savory and spicy aroma. Despite all the drama, the meal will be delicious.
I touch her shoulder. “You okay?”
She smiles up at me. “I’m fine.”
“Feel a little bad for the lobsters?”
“Not bad enough that I won’t eat them.” She shrugs. “Hypocritical of me, I suppose.”
“No. I get it.” I shuffle my feet on the wooden deck. “I’m a rancher, remember?”
“Oh!” She clasps her hands to her mouth. “Of course you get it. But you told me the first night that feeding people is a noble calling for an animal.”
I did say that. To both June and Rachel. My heart squeezes a little at the memory that seems so distant but was only two days ago. So much has happened since then.
June and I walk off the deck and away from the chef and the grill. “I stand by that statement,” I say. “But I also treat my animals well. They’re pastured and grass-fed, and they live happy lives. That’s how I show my love for them. But they’re not pets, June. I made that mistake when I was younger. I got too close to a calf once, and I learned that lesson the hard way.”
