Snowed in with the Prince by E.C. Fountain

Author:E.C. Fountain [Fountain, E.C.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: E.C. Fountain

Chapter 7

Gabe looked at all the ingredients on the counter. What am I doing? Why didn’t I start with something simple? How about learning to boil water? He shrugged. Oh well. I’m in it now. Genevieve popped back into the kitchen, holding up a small duffel bag triumphantly. “Guess it pays to be lazy.” She rummaged through the bag, pulling out clothes. “I visited my Aunt Tracey this past weekend and hadn’t gotten around to getting my bag out of the car.” She frowned at the clothes. “I’ll toss these in the wash, so I at least have a few things to wear.”

Gabe led her to the laundry room where she quickly put the clothes in the washer. She smiled at him. “Let’s get cooking.”

The wind roared across the heavy logs of the cabin. Gabe watched as the snow continued to stack up against the large windows in the kitchen. It was almost completely dark now, and the thought crossed his mind that he would be much more worried if Genevieve hadn’t shown up on his doorstep. It seemed like she knew how to handle any situation. He studied her across the kitchen, as she scrutinized the cookbook that he’d borrowed from her library. She would make an excellent queen. He frowned. Queen? Where had that come from? He shook his head and focused on the ingredients spread across the counter. “I think I’ve got everything we need.”

Genevieve didn’t even look up. She nodded, continuing to read the cookbook. Her reading glasses slipped down her nose, and she pushed them up in one absentminded maneuver. She looks so cute and smart, just like the little librarian that she is.

“You got Arborio rice, right?”

Gabe felt like he’d just been called out by a teacher for not paying attention in class. He fumbled for the bag of rice before reading the label. “Arborio.” He held the bag up and grinned. “Got it.”

Genevieve looked up from the recipe. “Well, this doesn’t look too bad. Why don’t you put the chicken broth on low heat while I chop these onions?”

Chicken broth. He grabbed the carton of chicken broth and one of the brand new large pots Gerald insisted he purchase. “How much do I use?”

Genevieve opened drawers, rummaging for something. “We’ll need six cups. Do you have any measuring cups?”

“Yeah, they’re up here.” He walked over to her and opened the top cabinet, retrieving several measuring cups. He stared down into her chocolate eyes, noticing the amber ring around her pupils. He glanced at her full lips, then took a deep breath. “Okay, six cups.”

She smiled at him, which made him even more distracted. He turned knocking some garlic and onions off the counter. “Bugger...” He bent to retrieve the vegetables at the same time as Genevieve and ended up knocking her down. He tripped over her leg, sprawling on top of her. He could feel the cold floor beneath his hands and her warm body beneath his. She smelled like peaches again. He couldn’t seem to move but was transfixed by a lock of her dark hair.

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