Chapter 888

"No need. You keep cooking. I'll just stand here."

Vivian Laurent simply wanted to watch Ethan Roscente for a moment. Nothing more.

But she'd never admit it out loud. No need to inflate his ego.

"Hmm?" Ethan arched a brow, his gaze lingering on her face. What was she staring at? Him, or his cooking?

A bold suspicion flickered in his mind—

"Afraid you'll poison me," Vivian cut in first. "What if you drug me again?"

"Won't happen."

So that's what she was worried about.

Aside from that incident at the airport, he'd never used any sedatives on her again. Though the drug was harmless, he couldn't bring himself to do it.

"Who knows?" Vivian crossed her arms, leaning against the doorframe. "I feel safer keeping an eye on you."

"Suit yourself." Ethan chuckled helplessly, deftly handling the ingredients. He deliberately slowed his movements, ensuring she could see every step.

The spatula flipped, releasing an aromatic fragrance.

Vivian found herself staring at his slender fingers. That five-day agreement—had it been a trap all along?

She realized with a start that she didn't want to leave.

This man was too cunning. He'd woven a net of tenderness, just waiting for her to fall into it.

She couldn't let herself be fooled.

As she turned to leave, Ethan called out to her.

"Taste the seasoning." He picked up a piece of rib, blew on it to cool it, and held it to her lips.

"No."

"Just one bite." His voice softened, coaxing like he was speaking to a child.

Against her better judgment, Vivian opened her mouth.

The meat was tender, perfectly cooked. Far better than she'd expected.

His culinary skills had improved astronomically. From someone who could only make instant noodles, he'd reached this level—all for her sake.

The realization sent a tremor through her heart.

"Another piece?"

"No." She averted her face. "If I fill up now, how will I eat later?"

"What's there to worry about?" He picked up a piece of fish. "Consider it an appetizer."

"I'm not a child."

"In my eyes, you'll always be the little girl who needs looking after."

Vivian's ears burned as she hurried out of the kitchen. This man was too smooth—she needed to stay sharp.

Half an hour later, the dining table was laden with dishes.

Ethan went upstairs to call Theo for dinner. The boy was hunched over a medical textbook, brow furrowed.

"Aunt Vivian, I don't understand this case."

"Which part?"

"Why is aortic dissection treated this way?"

Vivian took the book and began explaining patiently. She didn't notice Ethan standing nearby, his gaze tender as water.

By the time the food was nearly cold, Ethan finally took the book from Theo's hands.

"Eat first." He ruffled the boy's hair. "Save your questions for after dinner."