Why didn’t they open a window? It was hot in the kitchen!
“Hi!” Eli came toward her, a kitchen towel flipped over one shoulder and a large, almost childlike smile on his face. Although uncomfortable, she smiled back. He reached forward and grabbed her arm. “Sit down.”
Eli released her just as suddenly and looked guiltily to Conall. She did the same. The man who made her blood heat was glaring at his nephew. Eli’s smile disappeared momentarily before he shrugged and pointed to a table on the other side of the kitchen. Vivienne was about to speak when the man with the buzz cut spoke. She didn’t know what was said, as he had not used English, but from his tone of voice, he didn’t sound pleased.
Conall responded, his voice matching that of the man. Eli’s eyes widened as he looked between the two of them. The blond was still staring at her.
Clearing her throat, Vivienne looked directly at Conall. “I’m calling a cab. I just need the address.”
Both men stopped their foreign argument and looked at her. Conall answered, “I’ll take you home, after you eat.”
Vivienne shook her head once. Right. She was not about to eat. It was too awkward and it was obvious that some people didn’t want her there. She looked pointedly at the one with the close-cropped hair. He crossed a hand over his chest and glared at her, as if he knew her thoughts and couldn’t care less.
“It’s okay. I’m not that hungry.” As if to spite her, her stomach protested rather loudly. The smell of eggs, bacon, something cheesy and no doubt delicious, all made her really hungry.
Eli laughed. “Sounds like you are.”
Vivienne gave him a little grin.
Conall suddenly turned his back to her. She recognized he was cooking eggs. Her brain zoned in on just how good he looked holding that spatula. He paused and then said, “Sloan, Raoul, meet Vivienne.” He turned the stove off and faced her. “Vivienne, Sloan….” He pointed the spatula in the direction of the angry one, “and Raoul.” He pointed to the beautiful one.
She didn’t know why he was introducing her to them. It wasn’t likely that she’d ever seen them, or him for that matter, again. She waved, mouthed a quick, “hi.” Raoul smiled, a slow lifting of perfect lips to reveal straight, white teeth, as he sauntered forward. A soft growl left Conall’s lips, shocking Vivienne, and Raoul stopped a good foot from her.
“Pleasure to meet you.” He actually bowed. Vivienne’s brows shot up. Was he serious? She laughed softly. He was both beautiful and charming, a deadly combination.
Raoul rose with a smile, and headed over to the table and pulled out her chair.
Oh, what the hell? Vivienne thought. She’d already slept with Conall. All he was asking her to do was eat breakfast before she left. This was one weird one-night stand.
She sat, and Raoul proceeded to sit directly in front of her.
“Raoul,” Conall’s voice was harsh. Blinking innocently, Raoul turned to him, and placed both hands under his chin. “Yes?”
“Move.”
Vivienne glared at his rude behavior.
“Why? I always sit here—”
Conall took a step forward and Raoul grinned and winked at her before jumping from the seat. “Whatever you say.”
He moved to one of the chairs at the head of the table instead. “So, Vivienne, how did you meet Conall?”
“Raoul!” That was Conall’s voice.
Vivienne blushed and was spared from answering when Eli placed a plate of steaming eggs, bacon, and two slices of buttered wheat toast before her. She thanked him and he smiled.
“What would you like to drink?” He paused and continued on when she didn’t immediately respond. “We have orange juice, apple juice, fruit punch, milk, coffee, green tea, black tea, jasmine tea—”
“I’m sure she’ll answer if you let her,” Conall called from his position at the stove. She noticed he was the one dishing out the food. Vivienne found it odd he didn’t have a cook, or someone else to do that for him. He had maids, so she’d assumed he’d have other help.
“Tea’s fine,” Vivienne told Eli, who nodded and went about heating the water.
A few minutes passed, with Sloan taking a seat opposite Raoul, his mountain of food before him. Eli asked her questions about her tea. What kind? Milk? Sugar? She found herself smiling at him. He was a sweet boy—erm…sweet…teen? She had to keep reminding herself that despite his sweetness, this boy before her was practically a man, a darn good-looking one, too. He was the type to have teenage girls chasing after him, though she got the feeling he might not quite know what to do with them.