CH 9: My lady

ROSE

“It's hard to pretend, right ?...when you're actually not asleep” he smirked.

Shit!

I pushed my eyes open in flabbergasted by his response. Little butterflies started prancing the inner lining of the stomach—for what; that I failed to understand.

After a moment full of cursing, I finally took up the courage to slowly turn my face to his side.

He would be lying at his place, half asleep and tired from the day— I hoped. But got crushed when I found his face undesirably close to mine. His breath almost dancing with mine. He wasn’t shocked nor his expression had that naughty touch.

He was staring and at me, in the eyes with something people called intensity and suddenly I realized— God; I was staring at him back with the same thing; intensity.

I involuntarily took a sharp intake of breath, as his gaze shifted my eyes to a little down stopping at my lips. My lips whose needs I had ignored till now felt extremely dry, direr than the deserts of Saharah. I could feel my heart beating playing a lub-dub game in my chest.

Oh god, what is happening to me?

 I had an urge to lick my dry lips but prevented with the thought of giving a wrong signal or any signal, that would make him do something more; more than just—a kiss.

Nonetheless, my dry lips didn’t seem to affect him. His fingertips slid my jaw, and is face turned, but as soon his lips were about to touch mine.

I pulled back.

Taking uncontrollably huge intakes of breath.

 “I-I think we should sleep” I struggled to speak and turned my body back to its original site— don’t look back, Rose. Sleep!

RYAN

God!

I never intended to kiss her. Initially, my plan had been to provoke her; in a way that would keep her awake the whole night in thoughts of me.

But Guess, it had the reverse impact.

I tossed an turned the whole night with the hope of finding some sleep; it didn’t. Undeniably I was so turned on. I wanted to kiss her, hard, so badly that even the thought of it, would execute a response from my body that I least wanted.

I didn’t want to freak her out. But damn—this was hard.

It was almost the middle of the night when I decided to take a little peek at her. I thought it would be good to calm my recking nerves. So leisurely, I turned towards her to take a small glimpse of her sleeping. Her lashes were closed, and her breath shallow. She was sleeping as soundly as a koala (the cute one).

Again, the more I saw her, the more that I wanted to kiss her. I observed her until I could no longer contain myself. Then finally turned to my side.

I had never been this desperate ever before.

ROSE

Just like the predator looking for prey( I know bad example— plus I was the prey), as soon as I got up, the first thing I was to scan the bed, then the whole room for Ryan.

Ouch! My shoulder hurt since the sleeping beauty aka me has been sleeping in the same position since last night; it was bound to happen.

 The needle stuck seven and a trail of ear piercing triiiiiiiiiiiig began hitting my brain. Turning the f*cking alarm off, finally jumped off from the bed after finding no trace of Ryan’s life.

Maybe he was an early riser. Or maybe I had offended him last night that he was so embarrassed to even show his face. It is said that the world is full of infinite possibilities, and guessing the reason Ryan’s absence made it even impossible to deny that.

Nevertheless, Ryan was the first that came to my mind in the morning and the last, yesterday—I gave up on thinking anything more; it wasn’t good for my health—maybe heart too.

 By the time I got to the kitchen for breakfast a whole hour and thirty minutes (twenty-nine; to be more precise) had passed in me taking a shower and pampering my already dry skin.

I had to reach the office by 9:30, and guess what; after shifting to Ryan’s house the only good thing that had happened was the reduction in the distance from my office.

It was barely a 15minutes drive or a 20-25minutes walk.

At least not everything is bad.

Sigh!

 The sound of something splashing caught my over flowing thoughts and what I found after that was even shocking. None other than the celebrity billionaire; Ryan Scott standing on the kitchen counter and —Cooooooking?

I haddn’t expected this.

Aren’t Billionaire or rich people, in general, suppose to have special cooks; that could easily make a five-starred meal, appointed at their homes?

Okay! Moment of the supreme truth. That might seem a little selfish of me, but I had thought I needn’t need to cook after I get married to Ryan, and part of me (okay; whole) was actually relieved by it. It wasn’t that I can’t cook; simply I hated cooking.

Personal preference— no offense should be taken.

But do we need to prepare our own meals?

 “Oh, welcome,” He said, giving me a smile as if last night was a dream and nothing happened—well nothing really happened, except me being embarrassed.

 “Yeah!” I smiled, pretending just like he was —nothing happened. "I never thought you could cook," I said in a simple but teasing tone.

 “Why?” His gaze lifted up to me, with a mild amusement visible in his voice, “don't you think I have hands, and I guess any person with pretty much good working hands can easily cook" It felt like a tease as if he knew I'm a terrible cook.

“ Not sure, though” I shrugged.

 “Why?”

 “Cause I am terrible cook”  I sighed “leave it.”

 I moved to the inner space of the open kitchen expecting to cook my own meal, when he stopped me in the middle, with his hand grabbing my elbow.

“Your meal is ready, my lady” he gave me a servant slash gratitude bow and then pointed towards the dining seating.

 “Has anyone told you that you're good at pleasing women?” I laughed at his sudden disbelief.

 “Only for you my lady!” He laughed back.

“But, you would be pleased to know that this lady isn't normal, she is vegetarian and from what I see you’re grilling meat. So, you may forget the thought of pleasing me”

 I was about to back off when he spoke with a confident smile, that made with a frown “I know, that's why I have prepared a good vegetarian meal for you” he came a little close to my face and whispered “My lady—”

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