Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 126510 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126510 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
While he was miserly with his fortune when it came to business matters, causing his partners to poke fun at his tight purse strings, he had no qualms about indulging in personal luxuries, fine dining being uppermost. So he knew a professional presentation when he saw one. And Evangeline’s dish looked every bit as skillful and masterful as those served in his favorite and most exclusive restaurants. It remained to be seen whether the taste matched the appearance, but so far he was impressed. His angel was full of surprises, it would seem. Suddenly he was eager to ferret out her secrets, what made her tick, what lay beneath the veil of sweet innocence and a shine that was impossible to go unnoticed by any living, breathing person within a hundred yards of her.
She fiddled with her fork, peeking up at him from underneath her eyelashes. He dug into the fish and took a bite and then halted. He chewed and then quickly took another bite, not believing what he’d just experienced.
Now motivated to taste the other offerings, he forked into the two unknown sides and then leaned back with a groan. She looked apprehensive, and he noticed she hadn’t taken a single bite of her own meal.
“This is amazing, Evangeline. It tastes magnificent. You cooked this? Are you sure you haven’t pulled one over on me and ordered in?” he teased.
Her face colored but her eyes shone with delight at his compliment, and she ducked her head self-consciously, then nodded.
“I love to cook,” she said softly. Then she lifted her head so their gazes met and her cheeks went pink all over again. “I’m pretty good at it, actually. I did all the cooking when I lived back home, and I cook for my roommates to save money so we don’t eat out all the time. When I was young, I would go to the library and check out cookbooks and copy the recipes. We couldn’t afford cable or satellite television, so I couldn’t watch cooking channels, so I learned by trial and error. It’s amazing the wonderful-tasting meals you can make with inexpensive ingredients. The secret is in the seasoning. Eating out was a luxury we couldn’t afford. Not even fast food, and, well, when I got better at cooking, to be honest, I much preferred my own cooking over greasy takeout food.”
He barely managed to stifle the frown forming. When had Evangeline ever had time to live her own life? To have a life of her own, for that matter? From the bits and pieces he’d been able to put together, she’d sacrificed everything for her family, even leaving home so she could make more money, but lived in squalor in order to support her parents. And he still had no idea why her parents couldn’t do for themselves. She’d told him her father had been injured on the job and workman’s comp found a way out of paying, but what was the mother’s story? It made him angry that a beautiful young girl on the cusp of womanhood had put everything on hold to work herself to the bone, setting aside her own wants and desires for others. But then it also made her special. Head and shoulders above others for her sheer generosity and selflessness.
“How old were you when you started teaching yourself to cook?” he asked, already knowing he wasn’t going to like the answer.
“Nine,” she said, as if it were the most normal thing in the world. “Mom helped as much as she could, but it was more important for her to be with Dad, so I took over the kitchen, and they pretended not to notice when smoke filled the kitchen and I ran through the house opening all the doors and windows,” she finished with a laugh.
But Drake wasn’t laughing. He was furious. Nine. She’d been nine years old when she’d assumed the role of primary caregiver for her adult parents. He had to put his hands down below the table so she didn’t see the tight fists that formed. And her attitude said it all. She didn’t see anything abnormal about a mere child being forced into adulthood and taking on a mountain of responsibility. Never having a childhood. Much like himself, though their circumstances were vastly different. She, at least, had food to eat and she hadn’t voiced a single complaint about the way her parents treated her. In fact, every time she spoke of her family, her face softened and her eyes went warm with love.
But it didn’t change the fact that she’d been cheated of things most children took for granted. Did she ever plan to live her own life? To do something solely for herself?
Hell yes. He would see to that. He couldn’t change the past for either of them, but he could damn sure change Evangeline’s future, and her days of putting her own needs aside for the people she loved were over. He couldn’t make her many promises, but he could at least make her that one. Never again would she be in servitude, willingly or not, to others.