Compromising Kessen (The Vandenbrook #1)(27)
Author: Rachel Van Dyken

“I’ve got my hands full enough with you, thank you very much,” she said, patting him patronizingly on the head.

“I deserve that, I guess.”

“Well, you did make fun of my pet rock.”

“I’m not even going to respond to that,” he mumbled.

It was quiet again. Christian found himself praying Kessen would talk. Earlier he wanted to muzzle her, now he wanted to hear her tell stories and never stop. That was it, he needed food. Either that, or he was getting a fever. Never in his life had he wanted any woman to keep talking to him. If anything he had prayed science would develop some sort of listening device to drown out any high-pitched voice within ten feet.

Kessen piped up with more enthusiasm than he thought possible when she saw them nearing the edge of town. “Look, there’s a little convenience store! Should we stop for food?”

He nodded and parked, watching in disbelief as she hopped from the car and ran into the bakery. Just as he was locking the doors and getting ready to step inside, his cell rang.

“Hello?”

“Hey, it’s Nick.”

“Nick! It’s good to hear from you. Sorry about all the confusion this morning with the flights.”

“No prob. Have you told her yet?”

“No. I’m going to leave the surprises to you.”

“She threatened me with a machete, Christian. Surprising her may not be the best idea.”

“She does have a tendency to become violent.”

“Ya think? Page six and all.”

“I’m not commenting.”

“I didn’t think you would.”

Christian paused as he heard silence on the other end.

“Anyway,” Nick said, breaking the spell, “I’m all set to arrive tomorrow morning. Try to prep her a little before I show up. I’m probably more excited about this whole thing than her father, and that’s saying a lot. Did you know he was playing ‘God Save the Queen’ from his sound system for two days straight when he heard you guys were getting married?”

“The poor neighbors.”

“Poor me! I’m his neighbor! My dog still hasn’t recovered!”

“Sorry, old boy.”

“It’s fine. Look, just don’t let me surprise her too much. I’m wickedly attractive, albeit not as smart as I would like people to believe. Basically, I need my looks. They’re all I have.”

“I’ll do my best.”

“Thanks, dude. See you soon.”

“Cheerio.”

Christian snapped the phone shut and sighed, “Americans.” Before he opened the door to the bakery, Kessen was already on her way out, paper bags and drinks in hand.

“Hey, I didn’t know what to get you, so I bought enough carbohydrates and snacks to put you into a food coma. Sound good?”

She looked absolutely flushed and perfect and—he couldn’t even control his own thoughts.

“Christian?” she pressed.

“Um, right. Brilliant, thank you.”

He sounded like his father, and it made him want to jump off a tall building. He hung his head in shame as he strode to her side of the car.

“Oh, I didn’t think you’d want to eat in your car.”

“Why?” His voice cracked. Blast his male hormones!

“There’s frosting, and things flake, and well, you have a nice car…”

“It’s fine,” he snapped, needing to distance himself from her as soon as possible. It was best she had no idea what he was thinking at that moment.

It involved her and frosting.

He threw the thought out of his head and abruptly opened her door. She slid in and smiled, totally unaware of his inner turmoil.

He bit his tongue to keep from saying something he would regret. He probably looked like he was in pain, and quite honestly he was in pain. Everything in his body screamed with unquenched desire.

He nodded hastily and got in on the other side. She handed him a chocolate croissant and tea. When he took the tea from her she seemed to blush. “I didn’t think you’d want coffee.”

He laughed. “You mean you didn’t want to take the risk of bringing me coffee and having me lecture you on the merits of tea?”

“Exactly,” she muttered. “Plus, we don’t have all day for you to lecture me.”

“Pity.” He took a bite out of his croissant.

She shook her head and returned to her own delicious snack. She was careful not to spill anything in her lap; although he noticed she did have a little frosting on her face.

She hadn’t noticed.

He kept staring.

She still hadn’t noticed.

He was going to burn someplace very hot for what he was thinking. Saint Peter was right; it is not good for man to be alone. Ever.

Good thing he was getting married.

Blast it all, why wasn’t she using a napkin? She was so careful not to spill. Everything in him screamed, “Look in a mirror! Stop torturing me!”

Alas, she did nothing but turn towards him with a curious look on her face.

So he devoured her.

In his mind, that is … then he carefully leaned over and licked, yes licked, the tiny fleck of frosting right off of her lip.

The tension in the car was so thick it was hard to breath. His chest constricted as she reached up to touch where his tongue had just been. She touched his face. He closed his eyes, reveling in the feel of it.

A banging on the window jolted both of them in their seats, nearly sending their drinks flying. It was a police officer pointing to a sign that said No Parking.

Christian mouthed they would go. Kessen sank into her seat and closed her eyes in embarrassment.

After a few minutes of maneuvering traffic, they were basically home free. After all, Kent wasn’t all that far away from London. It would be dark by the time they reached the house, but it would be ready for them. It was fully stocked with food and had a few servants who lived on the premises.

Kessen turned to look at him. “I think we should revisit this whole no-touching thing.”

He nearly slammed on the brakes in shock.

Kessen, noticing his inability to drive and talk at the same time, grimaced. “Maybe we should talk when you aren’t in control of a death-mobile.”

“I’m fine. I can talk and drive.”

“That’s yet to be proven,” she said, tensely looking at the road while holding her hand out in front of her, like that would somehow stop the car if they were to crash.

Chapter Fifteen

Kessen didn’t trust herself after ten o’clock at night. Everyone in her family knew of that rule. Nothing good ever happened after ten. Hadn’t she stated as much? Hadn’t it been proven true time and time again? So why she decided to have such a bizarre conversation after ten o’clock was beyond her, yet that’s exactly what was taking place.