<div> Chapter 132: Wild in bed
 Mia was suddenly inclined to cooperate with him. For one thing, despite her nap, she was mentally exhausted and not up to sparring with him; she was also starving and heartily sick of being afraid. But the memory of that kiss had nothing to do with her surrender. Nothing whatsoever! she told herself. Nor did it have anything to do with the sudden, impossible conviction she had that he was telling her the truth!
 "I’m innocent of those crimes," he repeated more forcefully, his gaze never leaving hers.
 The words hit her with a jolt, yet still she resisted, trying not to let her foolish emotions overrule her intellect. All the investigation and evidence led to him, he had killed them...
 "If you can’t actually believe that," he said with a harsh sigh, "could you at least pretend you believe it and cooperate with me tonight?"
 Stifling the urge to nod, Mia said cautiously, "What sort of ’cooperation’ do you have in mind?"
 "Conversation," he said. "Lighthearted conversation with you. So is decent food, a fireplace, moonlight in the windows, and the sight of a pretty woman."
 A definite note of encouragement lightened his voice as he added, "I’ll do all the cooking if you’ll agree to the arrangement."
 Mia hesitated, stunned by his reference to her as a pretty woman, then she decided he had meant nothing by it except a little empty flattery. A night without tension and fear was being offered to her and her battered nerves cried out for relief. What harm was there in what he asked, particularly if he were truly innocent. As long as he meant nothing sexual, she had nothing to lose. "You’ll do all the cooking?" she bargained.
 He nodded, a lazy grin sweeping over his handsome face as he realized she was about to agree, and the unexpected glamour of that white smile of his did treacherous things to her heart rate. "Okay," she agreed, smiling a little despite her desire to remain at least partially aloof, "but only if you’ll do the cleaning up as well as the cooking."
 Neil, who in the past would never have agreed to something as absurd as cooking and cleaning himself, chuckled at that. "You drive a hard bargain, but I accept. Sit down while I finish the dinner for us." He said as he turned back to the oven.
 Mia obeyed and sat down on one of the stools at the counter that divided the kitchen from the living room.
 "Tell me about how your life has been for the past years," he said, taking a baked potato out of the oven.
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 </div> Mia took another swallow of the wine he’d given her for courage so she wouldn’t feel all those bitter emotions that came with recollecting her life from the past years without her mother. "What do you want to know?" She asked.
 "General things, for a start," Neil said casually. "When are you getting married to your fiance?" The thought of her marriage hadn’t yet sit well with him, but he fought back anything that would lead to disagreement to have a peaceful night.
 "Owen and I are still talking about it." She said.
 "What is there to discuss when you are already engaged? Or is it that you aren’t sure about Owner yet?"
 Mia choked on her wine. Stifling an embarrassed laugh, she said, "I don’t actually think that question falls in the category of general information. And FYI, his name of Owen not Owner."
 "Hmm, I’ll keep that in mind next time," he agreed with a small grin. "So, what’s holding up the marriage?"
 To her disgust, Mia felt herself blush beneath his amused gaze. She was the one holding up the marriage even though Owen had wanted it to happen in a flash, but she wasn’t going to tell him that because she didn’t want to be asked why. She replied to him with admirable calmness. "We want to be certain the time is right and we are not rushing things."
 "Sounds to me like you’re stalling. Do you live with him in the same house?" He asked curiously.
 "Absolutely not!" Mia said hurriedly before she could stop herself, and he lifted his brows as if he found her pleasingly amusing.
 "So you live alone or with other family members?"
 Mia’s eyes dulled at that question. Her life for the past years would be considered boring and lonely without any family members, she’d lived a redundant life and focused it only on her career.
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 </div> "I live alone." She replied, hiding her bitter expression behind the wine glass.
 "Not yet married and no family members," he said, as he poured more wine in her glass. "So no one is looking for you now, wondering where you are?" He asked, feeling immensly please that she lived alone and not with Owen.
 "I’m sure a lot of people are."
 "Who, for instance?"
 "My fiancee, for a start. By now he’d undoubtedly be frantic and calling people to see if anyone’s heard from me. The first person he’d call is my best friend, Rayne. Owen has a deep connection in the business world, he won’t stop until he finds me." She said, pleased to see that he looked a bit concerned by that information as his expression had turned grim. By now, she believed Owen must have gathered his team to search for her, not to mention if the media hears of her kidnapping, her fans would come after Neil Wayner’s head.
 The brief feeling of power Mia felt at seeing him alarmed was even headier than the wine she was drinking. Nodding happily, she continued to say, "Owen’s men everywhere will be hunting you down with dogs and guns, and the citizens of our country will be praying they find you right away."
 Turning slightly aside, Neil poured the last of the bottle of wine into his glass and tossed it down. "Great. Let them come." He said with a grim expression, all humor gone from his face.
 The mood of friendly conversation had been such a relief that Mia soon regretted its loss when she saw how grim he looked, and she searched for something to say that might restore his good mood. "What are we having for dinner?" she asked finally.
 The question shook him from his grim mood, and he turned to the pot on fire. "Something simple," he said, "I’m not much of a cook so don’t expect anything good."
 With his body blocking her view of the cooking, she had little to occupy her, and so Mia idly watched the way his sweater stretched across his wide shoulders. He was amazingly muscular, as if he’d been working out in the prison gym. Prison. She’d read somewhere that many people who are sent to prison are actually innocent, and she found herself suddenly clinging to the comforting hope that Neil might actually have been one of them.
 Deep within her heart, she longed to believe in his innocence. She despised the guilt that consumed her whenever she smiled at him instead of condemning him for his crime. She wished for him to be innocent so that she wouldn’t have to bear the burden of guilt, so that she wouldn’t feel remorseful as she sat there waiting for him to finish cooking so they could share a meal together like normal.
 Without turning, he said, "Sit down on the sofa. I’ll bring the food over there for us."
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 </div> Mia nodded and got off the stool, noting that the second glass of wine was definitely affecting her, making her feel a little too relaxed and lightheaded. With Neil following her, carrying plates, she went over to the sofa and sat down at one of the smooth, soft cushions he’d laid in front of the fireplace. He put down two plates, one of which contained a juicy steak and baked potato.
 But In front of her, he plopped down a plate on which he had turned a can of tuna fish. That was all. No vegetable, no garnish, nothing. He didn’t give her the juicy steak nor the potato, just the tuna fish, which she’d intended to use for sandwich in the evening but had changed her mind when he told her to make for both of them.
 After having her mouth water for so long in anticipation of a thick, juicy sizzling steak, he had deprived her of it and gave her this...this stupid tuna fish! Mia’s reaction to the cold, round mound of boring, unappetizing tuna fish was swift and unguarded. Her irate gaze snapped to his face, her mouth open in angry dismay but no word came out of it.
 "Isn’t that what you wanted? I saw you reaching for it in the evening like a sneak thief." he remarked innocently, ignoring her irate glares. "Or would you prefer a nice steak like the one I left for you in the kitchen, Mi amor?"
 There was something about his boyish prank, something about his engaging grin and his mesmerizing smiling eyes that caused an unexpected, and, under the circumstances, bizarre reaction from Mia. She started to giggle. And then she started to laugh. She laughed so hard tears were streaming down her eyes. She couldn’t even get up to go and get the steak he’d spoke of in the kitchen, but he got up and walked back to get it for her.
 Her shoulders were still shaking with laughter when he walked back to the sofa carrying another plate with the steak on it and put it in front of her.
 "Like this one a little better?" He asked with a smile.
 "Well," she said, trying to sound serious despite the laughter still shimmering in her eyes, "I can forgive you for kidnapping and terrifying me, but it’s a hanging offense to give me tuna while you eat steak. I could be a beast when it comes to food." Mia would have been content to eat in peaceful silence, but as she cut the first bite of steak he noticed for the first time that she had a bandage around her left wrist and asked her how she’d gotten injured.
 "Oh, it an injury I got weeks ago before I traveled to Novaria." she explained, looking down at her wrist with a softened expression.
 Noticing the tenderness in her eyes as she stared down at her injured wrist, Neil took it that her fiance most have had something to do with the injury, she must have gotten it when they were making love in an intense way, or else there was no way one would look so happy at the thought of a wound if it weren’t inflected through something passionate.
 "Was he that wild with you in bed?" He asked, swallowing down the unexplainable emotions that rose to his throat.
 "Excuse me?" She looked taken aback, "What is wild?"</div>
 

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Chapter 132: Wild in bed

Chapter 132: Wild in bed Mia was suddenly inclined to cooperate with him. For one thing, despite her nap, she was mentally exhausted and not up to sparring with him; she was also starving and heartily sick of being afraid. But the memory of that kiss had nothing to do with her surrender. Nothing whatsoever! she told herself. Nor did it have anything to do with the sudden, impossible conviction she had that he was telling her the truth! "I’m innocent of those crimes," he repeated more...

Loving The Temperamental Adonis

Chapter 132: Wild in bed

Loving The Temperamental Adonis - Chapter 132: Wild in bed