Despite Tristan's warning, I changed out of my lingerie and spent the next hour getting ready.

I showered carefully, washed my hair, and shaved my legs because I knew he liked it even though he never outrightly said it.

After oiling my skin with his favorite rose-scented lotion and donning a sleeveless tank top and shorts, I walked down the stairs, en route to the kitchen.

I placed my phone on the island, opened the fridge, and searched around for the ingredients I would need for a chicken casserole.

Potatoes, check.

Carrots, check.

Leeks, check

Celery sticks, check.

I crouched down to the freezer.

Chicken stock, drumsticks, chicken thighs. Check, check, check.

Placing my items on the counter, I checked the clock on my phone. It was quarter to six. I had just a little over three hours before Tristan arrived.

Humming, I washed my vegetables and got to work chopping them into different chunky pieces. When I was done, I crushed my garlic, seasoned my chicken pieces, and started the lengthy process of cooking.

Approximately thirty minutes later, I had just finished with my casserole mixture and was about to turn it into an oven pan when my phone buzzed with an incoming call.

My heart rate spiked up. Wiping my hands, I rushed to it, giddy. I picked it up. Oh... My shoulders dropped. It was a call from my mum.

"Hi, mum," I answered, hiding my disappointment.

"When are you coming to visit home, Leticia?" My mother asked, going straight for the bull's eye instead of returning my greeting like any normal human would.

I let out a deep sigh. That was Olivia Bardot for you; always straight to the point, never beating around the bush, and when she used native names, you just knew it was about to get serious.

"It's almost Thanksgiving," she continued, her voice tight. "Come home and let's have dinner like we used to before you moved away, far away." Her punctuated last words reminded me that she was still not okay with my relocation.

She'd wanted me to school in Australia, get a job there, and find a man there. She said foreign men were trouble and couldn't be trusted, and I guess she must have been speaking out of experience since my stepfather and the one after that were Americans.

But that didn't deter me from finding greener pastures and inner peace elsewhere. One, I was tired of waking up to kangaroos boxing on my window every goddamned day. Two, I just didn't think that Australia was the right place for me. The people I was supposed to trust hurt me, leaving too many scars and haunting memories. Moving far away was a breath of fresh air.

I propped my cell phone against my shoulder and proceeded to pour my mixture into an oven pan. "My work schedule won't let me, mum," I said, feeling a pang of guilt snake through me for lying through my teeth. It was for the greater good. Telling her I was fake married to a billionaire for money wasn't an option. She would skin me alive for selling myself. "We talked about this before."

She sighed. "There you go again, using work as an excuse to stay away from family. My beautiful girl, I know you're working hard to take care of us and I've always thanked you for that, but you don't need to try so hard anymore. Thanks to the prosthetic leg you got your elder brother, he is finally leaving the house and soon he will get a job."

I exhaled a breath. It was a little relieving to know that Axton was coming out of the shell he'd forced himself into. I really wanted my brother to be happy. After everything he'd been through, he deserved it.

My mum took a deep breath and spoke glumly. "You're starting to worry me, Sienna, you are not getting any younger, you really need to find a partner, Mrs. Lee's son just returned back from Germany. He's a neurosurgeon. I told him that you are a nurse in America, and he's interested in meeting you this Thanksgiving."

My lips pursed together. "So this is what it really is about?" She always did this. If she wasn't nagging me about leaving home, she was trying to match make me with every decent Aussie guy she came across.

Her exaggerated huff echoed over the line. "Oh come on, It is every mother's dream to see their child in a white dress. I want you to be happy, Sienna, I want you to settle down and have children of your own."

For some reason, her words made me cringe. "I don't think I'm ready for that now," I told her, sticking the casserole into the oven and setting the timer for 35 minutes.

Getting married and then getting pregnant meant having a child, it meant being a mother and being responsible for the growth and safety of another human, I couldn't do that. I didn't think I was ready for that, I didn't think I ever would be.

My mother tsked annoyingly. "When will you be? You just turned twenty-six, I was twenty-two when I had your brother."

I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose. I didn't know if she realized it but she wasn't exactly the best role model when it came to relationships. I exhaled harshly. "Mum, I'm not interested in meeting any guy right now."

Silence.

She was quiet for a moment, and then: "Sienna, are you by any chance gay?"

Her comment threw me off so badly, I choked on my spit. "Mum!"

"If you are into women I need to know now." She prompted. "We need to find a solution."

"No, I am not!" I snapped. "And being gay is not an illness or a problem that needs a solution!"

"Don't lie to me, Sienna, I know it's what you kids are into these days. Be honest, are you-"

"No mother!" I cut her. "I am not into women okay?! I'm just not interested in settling down right now and you really need to stop pestering me about it because it's starting to drive me crazy!"

The phone went silent again and this time I knew the reason.

Crap.

I forgot how emotional she got pretty quickly.

I moved the phone to my other ear, exhaling a deep breath. "Mum, I'm sorry, I'm just-" I exhaled again, running a hand through my hair. "-I'm sorry."

"It's fine. I'm sorry too. I have to go now, Axton just walked in." She finally spoke with a voice so morose it made my heart ache. "Goodnight, Sienna." With that, she hung up on me.

Great.

Just great.

I dropped my phone and lowered my head, puffing out air. I would call her back later, maybe when she wasn't upset with me any-

"Who was that?"

The deep baritoned question that punched through the silence of the room made me jerk in shock and immediately whirl around to-oh my God- my breath hitched in my throat as my hands flew to my chest. "Tristan!" I squeaked, my heart lurching. "Holy fuck, you almost scared the crap out of me!"

He was leaning against the doorway in the kitchen, arms crossed over his chest, his eyes raking over me in a way that made me hot all over. "That's not the welcome home I was expecting but I'll take it."

The hands on my chest fell to my side and I exhaled, allowing my eyes to take in how breathtakingly sexy he looked in his dark cashmere sweater and even darker jeans that slung low on his hips and had the waistband of his Calvin Klein boxers peeking out. My cheeks flushed. "Welcome back...I wasn't expecting you this early."

"I canceled my detours." He straightened and strolled towards me, his mesmerizing gaze hot and lustful, and filled with so much dominating power it made the hairs on my body stand. "I couldn't spend another minute without seeing you." He hooked his arm around my waist, pulling me close to him, so close that I could smell the heady scent of his aftershave and feel the heat pouring out through the hard planes of his body.

"Did you miss me that much?" I teased, licking my dry bottom lip.

His hand left my hip and tugged on the waistband of my shorts, and when he peered down to see that I was shaven and bare, he let out a growl so sexy it sent a rush of liquid desire straight to my core. "You have no idea." He let the waistband go with a snap and took my lips, kissing me with so much longing and hunger, it made my bones turn to water.

"Hope you're hungry, I'm making dinner," I informed over his lips when he finally released my mouth and let me breathe air.

He kissed my nose. "I'm famished."

The entire floor smelled incredible. I might have outdone myself with this one.

While Tristan showered upstairs, I served and carted our meal to the dining table, then I fetched a bottle of wine along with two glasses from the fridge.

He joined me shortly at the table, wearing nothing but his dark PJ pants that showcased the perfectly carved V of his pelvis that I could stare at all day, every day. I smiled, taking the lid off his meal. "Enjoy."

Nodding a thank you, he took a tentative spoon of streaming casserole into his mouth, sampling it.

I watched him with bated breath. One of the many things I'd come to learn about him was that he was a very picky eater and the knowledge made me anxious whenever I cooked for him.

For several seconds he chewed, slowly, elongating the tension in my gut.

Swallowing past the lump in my throat, I asked. "How is it?"

If he liked it I wouldn't know because this guy had the best poker face that ever existed. His expression was completely unreadable. He looked up at me, his eyes guarded. "Too spicy."

My stomach dropped. "Oh..." Instant mortification confounded me. "I'm sorry." My cheeks flamed. I didn't know why but I just wanted to hide under a rock. "Maybe I seasoned the chicken too much and-"

"I'm Just kidding, Sienna." He cut me cooly with an amused look on his face. "It tastes great."

I blinked and blinked again, waiting to see if he'd actually meant it. He had. Phew. I breathed down. "I'm glad you like it."

"I do."

Grinning like a love-sick moron, I started to eat. The casserole tasted great, the wine, even greater.

We had small conversations where he told me about his trip and I told him about my day. He hadn't been particularly delighted about the fact that I was with Candice. He didn't like her, he thought she was a bad influence on me. I brushed it off. I just didn't see it. Candice was a nice girl in her own right.

When we finished eating, I stood up and cleared the table while he remained in the dining sipping his wine.

I stored the leftovers in the freezer and washed the dishes, and I was just about to start cleaning the counter when I suddenly felt warm hands wrap around my waist and pull me into an even warmer chest.

"Tristan?"

"Mm?" He hummed, nuzzling his head into my hair and breathing out a satisfied breath.

I closed my eyes to the feeling of him. I missed this. I missed him. So much. "What are you doing?"

He leaned forward, his lips brushing the curve of my ear as he whispered. "What does it look like?"

I licked my lips. "It looks like you're trying to distract me."

"Mm." He kissed my nape, squeezing my hip possessively. "We could both use a little distraction."

"Go away, I'm cleaning." I tutted, ignoring my building appetite. Work first, sex later.

"Clean later." he urged as if reading my mind. "I'm horny. I want you."

"Looks like the wine is starting to get to you." I teased, trying to hide my smile as I wiped the counter.

"No baby, it's all you." He kissed me behind my ear. "You make me this way." He flexed his hip, pressing his pulsing erection into my back. "We could do it real quick right here, I don't mind." His hand on my hip drifted down, sneaking into my shorts, and my breath hitched when he cupped my sex.

"Tristan..." His name fell off my lips in a whisper.

"Mm?" He teased, rubbing my clit in lazy circles, his other hand shifting up to cup the underside of my breast. "You like it?" He tweaked a nipple between his fingers and pulled.

Oh, dear.

I clutched the counter, growing weak in the knees. "Just let me finish okay..." I begged breathlessly. "I need to tidy up first."

"Don't let me stop you." He continued to stroke me, pulling on my nipple, his lips peppering my neck with kisses. "I'm just going to stand here and make you cum all over my fingers while you do it." He pushed a thick finger between my folds and penetrated me.

Holy fuck!

Electricity jolted up my spine, causing my back to arch.

"Mm...you're wet." He nipped my ear with his teeth, whispering. "I love how easily your pussy gets wet for me." He pushed his finger an hairsbreadth deeper and twisted it.

My cheeks burned red. "Tristan, stop." I rasped, clinching my legs.

A growl rumbled in his chest as he crooked his finger, edging deeper. "Do you really want me to stop?"

I bit my lip. It was impossible to organize my thoughts when I was with him. He made it impossible to think of anything other than the pleasure he was giving.

He pushed another finger inside me and groaned into my skin when my walls clamped around him. "Such a greedy girl, trying so hard to pretend you don't want it but your starved pussy is begging to have me."

Fuck, oh, God. This man...his blunt words, his searing touch, every single thing about him was wicked, every single thing he did to me was wicked but I loved it, I craved it.

The slick sloppy sounds of his fingers moving through my wet sex echoed in the kitchen, causing my cheeks to flush. The pleasure he gave me every time was none like others.

My chest tightened, my legs quaked. I gripped his hand kneading my breast. "Tristan, I think I'm-" he'd won this round, against my will, I was going to cum, I was going to drench his fingers.

"I know." He murmured, biting the side of my neck with his teeth and sucking hard on my nipped flesh. He was leaving his mark, possessing me in the hottest way possible.

I tilted my head back to give him better access. He turned my neck and kissed me instead, his tongue sweeping into my mouth and fucking it in time to his fingers, faster, sloppier, driving me to my orgasm.

I came, crying into his mouth, writhing in his arms. He held me firm against him, drinking my screams, his fingers still working inside me.

I rode my orgasm with extreme bliss. A moment later, when my breathing returned to normal, I spun around and slapped his chest. "You're so cruel."

He sucked his fingers into his mouth, licking it clean with his tongue, and when he let them out with an obscene pop, my pussy clenched, revving back to life. "And you're as sweet as ever." A small smile pulled at his mouth. "I got you a little present, come with me."

My stomach somersaulted. A present?

He grabbed my hand and started to pull me out of the kitchen, leading me to the living room.

I almost missed my steps, his strides were long and hard to keep up with.

He let my hand go when we reached the coffee table and picked up the big black leather box wrapped with a red satin bow sitting on it. "Here you go."

I stared down at the box in his hand. My eyes narrowed. "What's in it?"

He handed the box to me. "Open it and find out."

I almost didn't want to but I collected the box anyway and perched on the edge of the couch to tentatively unknot the red ribbon. It came off easily. I paused first and looked up to regard him.

"Go on," he urged, nodding towards the box.

Swallowing, I took off the lid, and what I found sitting under the box made my mouth drop open and my heart skip a beat.

Oh my...

Eyes wide with disbelief, I snapped my head up to look at him again. "You got me books?"

He had a hint of a smile on his face. "You love to read them, don't you?"

My stomach somersaulted twice this time. "Yes I do but these aren't just books, Tristan." I turned my attention back to the box and stared down at the aged brown cloth-covered First edition novels of the first three Hercule Poirot series written by Agatha Christie.

The Mysterious Affair at Styles,1920 The Murder on the Links, 1923,
The Murder of Roger Ackroyd, 1926.

I ran my fingers over the worn surface. Oh, God. My chest caved. I closed the box and got up. "I thought we agreed no more expensive gifts, Tristan."

He shrugged one shoulder. "I forgot."

"Tristan, the things you do for me..." I sighed. "I can't possibly repay back, it's too much, I-"

"Shh..." He cut me, placing his index over my trembling lip. "You and I both know I'm not taking that back." He caressed my bottom lip with his thumb. "Either you refuse and I light it on fire or you accept and give me a thank you kiss."

My chin trembled. God, this man was something else. I stood on my toes and cradled his face in my hand, pulling him to me for a kiss that he returned with a soft moan of contentment. "You spoil me too much, Tristan." I breathed when I pulled back. "I love it. I love it so much, how did you know I was a fan of mystery and thriller?"

His lips twitched to the side as he tucked a lock of hair behind my ear. "Well someone's been reading the copy of The Pale Horse I have in my bedroom and it isn't Keith of Giuseppe because they're too scared to touch my things."

Oh...

Shit.

I bit my lip. He caught me. It was a big loft and a bit boring one. Most times, when I was extremely bored, I snuck into his room and read Agatha Christie's novel.

I lowered my head. "I'm sorry...I didn't know you noticed."

"I did." He cupped my chin and lifted my face to his. "I notice everything you do."

His words traveled down to my heart and made it flutter. He was such a charming devil, I couldn't resist cupping his face and kissing him again. "Thank you so much." I moaned, "I'll cherish it."

"I know you will." He moaned back, grabbing my ass and cupping it hard. "Now can we skip to the part where I take you upstairs, pull those pretty little legs of yours open and fuck the breath out of you?"

A lightning bolt of desire shot straight to my clit at his words. "Yes." I smiled, twinning my arms around his neck. "Yes, yes."