A Night with The Billionaire

Nine

She observed Nicholas with admiration as he expertly chopped onions and peppers for the breakfast burritos. The sweet scent of the vegetables and the savory aroma of sizzling bacon made her mouth water.

Her eyes followed his confident movements as he moved around the kitchen, displaying grace as he cracked eggs into a skillet and stirred them with a spatula. She couldn't help but notice how good he looked wearing that apron.

Caught up in the moment, she couldn't help but drool, captivated by his skillful movements like a professional chef. She wished the day would never end.

Curious about her thoughts, Nicholas chuckled and asked, "What's on your mind, Mon amour?" while skillfully spooning the eggs and vegetables onto large flour tortillas.

She licked her lips and was about to ask him something when she noticed his clothes and couldn't help but laugh softly. "Why are you wearing the same cargo pants?" she asked.

Nicholas tilted his head and gave her a breathtaking broad smile. "You said I looked good in them," he replied.

Raising an eyebrow, she waited for him to continue, but he turned his back and busied himself once again. Her stomach growled, reminding her of their earlier encounter in the shower, as he had playfully remarked that it wouldn't be until her brains were out.

"By the way, have you thought about quitting your job?" she asked, watching him place the stainless bowl in the sink and then move towards the counter where she stood.

"What's with the change of mood? I thought your decision was final," he said, looking serious. She remembered his serious tone from their conversation at the bar. However, it seemed he had a change of heart. She couldn't help but feel surprised and a little anxious about the possibilities. Was it too soon?

Nicholas' touch made her cringe at first when he moved closer, but it soon turned into warmth as he wrapped his arms around her waist. "I thought I'd consider your decision since it's your job," he said. "And I don't want to ruin something you love—unless you want me to," he added, kissing her forehead.

Amidst everything happening around her, being in his arms made everything else fade away. He made her feel alive and hopeful that things would work out as she wished.

"Can I think about it?" she asked, her eyes captivated by his emerald gaze. "Being around you like this overwhelms me, and I'm hungry," she mumbled.

His hands slipped away as the timer beeped. The enticing aroma of freshly cooked burritos filled the air. Nicholas stood at the stove, spatula in hand, expertly flipping the hot burritos.

She couldn't help but stare in awe as her mouth watered, but he stopped her from reaching out. "Still hot, Mon amour," he cautioned. Realizing her mistake, she blushed and chuckled at herself.

Nicholas blew air on the burritos, cooling them down. Once they were ready, he placed a full plate in front of her, looking delicious. She picked up her fork and knife, carefully cutting into the burrito. The first bite exploded with flavors, making her close her eyes. The eggs were fluffy and creamy, and the tomatoes were fresh.

"How is it?" she heard him ask.

She giggled like a child, her face lighting up as she looked at him. "So good. Are you a chef?" she asked.

He chuckled in response, serving himself and nodding slightly as he tasted his own creation. "Not bad, but I'm glad you love it," he said, taking another bite. They both focused their attention on the food, savoring each bite.

Suddenly, he said something that touched her heart. "I had to learn to cook for myself when I was eight," he revealed. She watched him, his voice sounding stern and sad.

"When my mother died, Izora wouldn't let me have a meal until I learned the rules of becoming a duke and completed my lessons," he added.

She stayed still, letting his words sink in. Behind his formidable aura, power, and title, he had a difficult childhood similar to hers. Her throat went dry as she swallowed, trying to get his attention by clearing her throat.

"Who is this Izora?" she asked, noticing his clenched jaw. He looked at her, replacing his solemn expression with a small smile. "Someone who used to get on my nerves, but not anymore," Nicholas said, standing up and placing his plate in the sink.

She was left speechless, realizing they had something in common—the absence of parental love and the longing and questions that haunted them. Why were they the ones who had to suffer and be without parents?

When he returned, he held a glass of water in his hand and approached her. "Drink this," he said, taking her plate and placing it in the sink, turning on the faucet.

Was he planning on doing the dishes? It was sweet and responsible of him, but she understood. Sliding down the chair, she followed him, feeling a heaviness in her chest.

For some reason, she couldn't find the right words to say. Did she need to comfort him? She didn't think so, as she wasn't particularly good at it. She, too, had lost her parents when she was six.

"Can I join you?" she choked out, slowly approaching him. He must have sensed her hesitation as he turned to face her.

Tiny bubbles covered his hands as he touched the tip of her nose. "Why do I feel like you're hesitating?" Nicholas asked, his lips brushing against her head.

"I don't know. I wanted to say something comforting...to ease the sadness," she paused, taking a deep breath. "But I'm not sure if I'm good at it. I lost my parents when I was six," she confessed. It seemed they were both without parents.

He seemed surprised by her revelation, a glint of surprise crossing his face. She felt her waist pulled closer to him, and he kissed her lips. "I'm sorry to hear that, Mon amour."

Now he was the one apologizing. "Izora was my mother's twin sister," she explained, resting her head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat.

"And every day, I would see my mother suffering from a tumor—except Izora always looked grumpy," Nicholas tightened his grip on her, providing the warm embrace she needed.

Instead of trying to find words that might ruin the moment, they remained still, finding solace in their shared pasts.

"Do you want to say something?" she heard him murmur. His lips touched her head as they stood there motionless.

"I'm sorry that we both had to suffer at such a young age," she finally said, accepting the past and hoping to make peace with it. All that mattered to her was the present and him.

One thing was certain. She couldn't control her racing heart for him. She knew her heart would soon follow, betraying her just like her body had done repeatedly. And she didn't mind, not now that she had seen another side of him.

"I feel sorry for not trying to confront her before she died, wishing I could have one last conversation with her," sadness tinged his voice, his vulnerability evident. As he caressed his back, her breathing became heavy, realizing he had experienced something worse than her. She had never been particularly fond of her parents, which made it easier for her to forget them.

"You were just a scared and lonely kid. I'm sure she understands," she replied, trying to soothe him with her voice.

She was still trying to process the fact that they had finally shared a vulnerable moment. She never expected herself to become so soft, as she had always been as tough as a rock. Was she changing for the better? She loved hearing Nicholas curse, but she had started to hate her own curses. Had she messed up so badly?

"Says the woman who also lost her parents," he chuckled.

Giving a short laugh, she met his gaze, seeing the calm expression on his face once again. "Well, my story is different. Losing my grandmother was much more painful than losing them."

Nicholas planted kisses on her head repeatedly, and she loved it. However, their moment was interrupted by the sudden ringing of his phone from his pocket. He didn't release his grip on her waist.

With one hand, he pulled out his phone and answered it. The tension in his jaw had her grabbing onto his shirt, sensing his frustration.

"I'll be there. Prepare a flight for me," he said into the phone. Her heart sank as she realized he was going back to his home, to the place where he belonged and was obligated to be. Weariness and disappointment filled her face as she looked away from him. Just when she thought this day would end well, things took a turn.

"Wait, I need to clarify something first," Nicholas said, pulling her back into his arms. The caller was still on the line as he looked at her, a sly smile forming on his face. "Please come with me to Florence, Mon amour."

She stood there, gaping at him, thinking he would leave once again. She didn't know how long he had been waiting for her answer, but her lips pressed tightly together as she searched for her response.

But before she could answer, her phone rang, displaying Cynthia's number.

"Belle, Cynthia's in the hospital right now!" Craig’s voice came through the phone, and she didn't realize what happened next, but she found herself panicking, grabbing her purse while Nicholas made a call behind her.