The evening was cloaked in a warm, golden glow as Andrei put the finishing touches on dinner. The kitchen, which was usually overseen by the house staff, was now filled with the rich scent of garlic, rosemary, and roasted chicken. The clatter of pots and the gentle hiss of simmering sauces made the spacious room feel unexpectedly cozy. Andrei wiped his hands on a towel and glanced at the table he had set for two, adorned with a vase of fresh lilies and the soft flicker of candlelight.
Cristine walked into the kitchen, her steps quiet, but the soft rustle of her dress caught his attention. She looked at him with a mixture of curiosity and warmth that made his heart give an odd, unexpected lurch.
“You cooked?” she asked, her eyebrows lifting in mild disbelief.
He grinned, a touch of pride
