Kaia scraped the chopped tomatoes off the cutting board and dumped them into the hot pan.
Sizzle.
The sharp hiss filled the kitchen. The sweet, acidic smell of cooking tomatoes immediately bloomed in the air.
Suddenly, a heavy footstep creaked against the hardwood floor in the dining room behind her.
Kaia's hand froze mid-air. Her stomach plummeted. Her fingers instantly tightened around the handle of the chef's knife.
She spun around, her heart hammering against her ribs. She raised the knife slightly, her eyes scanning the dark dining area.
"Who's there?" she demanded, her voice shaking.
A tall shadow detached itself from the darkness. He stepped into the edge of the spotlight's halo.
It was Jaxson.
He had taken off his suit jacket. His tie was loosened and hanging crookedly. The top two buttons of his crisp white shirt were undone, exposing the strong column of his throat.
Kaia stared at him. The adrenaline crashed out of her system. Her shoulders slumped, and she let out a long, shaky breath. She lowered the knife, resting the tip on the cutting board.
Jaxson looked at the blade in her hand. He raised an eyebrow. A slow, dark smirk pulled at the corner of his mouth.
"Planning to murder your husband on the first night?" he asked.
Heat exploded across Kaia's cheeks. She shoved the knife to the far edge of the counter. "I thought someone broke in," she stammered.
Jaxson walked slowly toward the kitchen island. He stopped on the opposite side of the marble counter. He placed both hands flat on the surface and leaned his weight forward. His dark blue eyes locked onto her face.
As he leaned in, a wave of heat rolled off his body. The sharp scent of expensive whiskey mixed with his signature cedar cologne hit Kaia's nose. It was intoxicating and entirely too aggressive.
Kaia leaned backward, her spine pressing against the edge of the stove.
"You said you'd be late," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
Jaxson stared at the pink flush spreading down her neck. "The meeting was boring. I ended it early."
He didn't tell her that he had spent the entire dinner staring at his watch, terrified she was having a panic attack alone in a massive new house.
His eyes dropped from her face to the pan sizzling on the stove. His jaw tightened.
"Is that what you're feeding yourself?" Jaxson asked, his voice dropping into a dangerous growl. "I told Mrs. Holloway to prepare a full dinner."
"I just wanted pasta," Kaia said quickly. "I didn't want to wake anyone up."
The pot of water next to the tomatoes suddenly boiled over. The lid rattled violently, water hissing as it hit the hot burner.
Kaia gasped. She spun around and grabbed the lid. A thick cloud of white steam blasted into her face.
Jaxson watched her slender back through the haze of the steam. His eyes darkened.
He walked around the edge of the island. He stepped directly behind her.
Kaia felt the sudden, burning heat of his chest against her back. Her entire body went rigid. Her hand froze on the wooden spoon. She stopped stirring.
Jaxson reached his long right arm straight over her shoulder.
His chest brushed against her shoulder blades. Kaia's breath hitched. She could feel the heavy, rhythmic thud of his heart through his shirt.
Jaxson grabbed the tall black pepper grinder sitting on the shelf just above the stove.
He didn't pull back. He stayed pressed against her. He leaned his head down, his mouth hovering mere inches from her ear.
"It needs pepper," he whispered. His voice was thick with alcohol and raw gravel.
He held the grinder directly over her pan. He twisted it twice. The sharp, spicy scent of crushed peppercorns hit the air.
Kaia couldn't breathe. Her lungs were completely paralyzed. She stared blindly at the boiling pasta, too terrified to turn her head. If she moved even an inch, her cheek would brush against his lips.
Jaxson stayed there. He didn't move away. He let the heavy, suffocating sexual tension hang in the air for three agonizing seconds.
Finally, he straightened up. He took a slow step back, putting a safe distance between them.
He looked at her flushed, panicked profile. He let out a soft breath, walked over to the built-in fridge, and poured himself a glass of ice water to cool the fire burning in his own veins.
