Every Beat of My Heart by Kianna Alexander

Author:Kianna Alexander
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2016-11-08T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 11

“Here’s one more.” Lina passed the last dirty utensil to Rashad. She stood next to him at the sink in his well-stocked kitchen, helping with the dishes. He’d washed while she’d rinsed and dried, and now the task was almost complete.

His kitchen, like the rest of his home, hadn’t changed much since she’d last been there, over six months ago. The decor was minimalist and practical throughout, and in no other room was that more evident than in his kitchen. It had all the modern appointments: black granite countertops flecked with gray and gold, black and white tiled floors, a center island with a set of gleaming stainless steel pots and pans suspended above it. All the appliances were black, from the French door refrigerator to the gas stove, and there wasn’t a fingerprint or smudge in sight.

While the place was kept pleasantly clean, it was obvious no woman lived in the house. There were no decorative towels, no throw rugs, and no place mats or linens to be seen. The only towel he had on display was the one she’d used to dry the dishes, and it was the same austere black-and-white pattern as the tile floor beneath her bare feet.

There was, however, a single piece of art hanging on the wall. Just above the small two-person table that occupied the back wall of the kitchen, situated between the garage door and the pantry, hung a framed collection of album covers. There were four of them, all full-size and full color, all anchored to the wall inside the same multiwindow, black lacquer frame. All were recordings by Thelonious Monk: The Complete Blue Note Recordings, Blue Monk, ’Round Midnight and Reflections. She glanced over at them. Seeing them there only served as a reminder of the upcoming auction for the legendary piano.

He took the knife from her and tossed it into the orange scented, soapy water. “Thanks for helping with the dishes.”

“No problem. Your fajitas were pretty damn good, it was the least I could do.” After the long day she’d had at the law firm, she’d thoroughly enjoyed his cooking. The chicken had been well seasoned and accompanied by sweet peppers, onions, warm tortillas and an array of toppings. After feasting on the meal and enjoying an ice-cold bottle of Corona, she was both stuffed and relaxed.

She let her eyes sweep over him, and had to admit she was enjoying the view. His locks were banded together at his nape, the brown tips hanging past his broad shoulders. He wore a white tank top that clung to his muscular torso and revealed the full glory of his corded arms. As he scrubbed the dishes beneath the foamy surface of the water, she watched his biceps and triceps flex. She was so busy staring she didn’t notice when he tried to hand her the clean fork.

“Lina.” He snapped his fingers.

She jumped. “Yeah?”

“Dry this, baby.” He dangled the fork in front of her.

“Sorry.” Taking it, she grabbed the checked soft towel from the counter and dried off the utensil.

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