Accidental Marriage with the CEO: Unwanted Bride
Chapter 41: But him

Chapter 41: But him

Roman had already begun leaving, and that was when it hit her, he was actually serious about getting the things she had carelessly requested.

"Wait... I mean..." she called out, just as he was a step from the door. But he didn’t flinch, didn’t even pause to acknowledge her words. Without looking back, he opened the door and stepped out, leaving her staring after him in stunned silence. She couldn’t believe it was that easy to get him moving. If she had known, she might have taken advantage of this side of him a long time ago. But something about it made her wary. She knew better than to test the limits of her luck.

Still... how was she supposed to stop him now that he was so intent on cooking for her? The truth was, she wasn’t even craving what she asked for. What she really wanted, what her body actually yearned for, was cake and chocolate. Sighing, she collapsed back into the bed, hoping sleep would come if she just gave in to it. But her body betrayed her, tossing and turning from one side to the other. Two whole hours passed and sleep never came.

Frustrated, she grabbed her phone and mindlessly scrolled through TikTok, losing another two hours to dancing strangers and funny skits. By the time she looked at the clock again, it was late, uncomfortably late.

Getting out of bed, she noticed the sky outside had long gone dark. A strange anxiety twisted in her chest. Was he still not back? What if he was out there, roaming the city in search of her ridiculous request? Fresh seafood wasn’t exactly easy to find in cities like this. And with that kind of resolve in his eyes before he left... God knows how far he could have gone.

A pang of guilt clawed at her. She was about to call for Kay when something stopped her, a rich, savory scent drifting in through the hallway, arresting her movements. She froze, nose twitching. It smelled divine. Her stomach let out a loud growl, betraying her hunger, and before she could think, her feet were already moving.

Maybe it was Maria cooking, she thought hopefully. That woman could work miracles with the simplest ingredients. But... no. There was something different about this scent. It was seafood. And not just any seafood, it smelled fresh, seasoned to perfection, like something out of a coastal restaurant. Her curiosity spiked.

She picked up her pace, heading straight for the kitchen. But nothing could have prepared her for the sight that met her eyes.

She froze in the doorway, her breath catching. It was the most surreal, unexpected image she had ever laid eyes on and it hit her like a bolt of electricity. The kind of moment that etched itself into memory forever, every detail sharp and glowing.

Roman stood behind the counter, slicing onions with steady, expert hands. A white apron hugged his waist snugly, accentuating every line of his form. His red hair stood out under the kitchen light like a flame, wild and striking. He looked... beautiful. Effortlessly so.

Her eyes dropped to his arms, to the way he rolled up his sleeves. The veins on his forearm shifted with every precise movement, and something stirred deep in her stomach. She swallowed hard, heat climbing her neck. Zara had once told her about an ex with sexy veins and how well he handled her in bed. For a moment, her mind betrayed her, slipping into a dangerous place, imagining what it might feel like to be held by Roman that way.

"Are you going to keep ogling?" Roman asked without looking up, his attention still on the onions.

Patricia was jolted from her wandering thoughts, and a wave of shame flushed through her. How could she let her mind go there? She cussed herself silently for letting such dirty thoughts slip through.

"Ah... you are back," she said softly, her voice gentler than she intended.

Then her gaze fell to the crab, and the rest of the things she had requested.

’He really bought them,’ she thought, a quiet ohh escaping her lips as her heart stuttered. Something about it made her want to savor this version of him, the softer, yielding side she hadn’t known existed. Who knew how long it would last before he returned to his usual cold, withdrawn self? This might just be a temporary shift, a moment made possible by Michelle’s absence. Once she came back, he would likely retreat behind that wall again. So really, she didn’t need to feel guilty. If anyone owed her this tenderness, it was him. He was the reason she was in this situation to begin with.

"You can take a seat. It won’t take long," he said, motioning toward the chairs in front of the counter.

"Oh... okay," she murmured, obeying before she even realized it. Then it struck her...wait. She was being too compliant. Since when did she start taking orders from him without question? She promised herself silently, never again. She wouldn’t let him get used to that.

Still, her eyes drifted back to him, drawn in against her will. There was something captivating about the way he moved in the kitchen, composed, focused. The onions didn’t faze him, nor did anything else. Everything flowed from his hands as if he belonged there. It made her wonder, if he was so used to cooking, why were the cabinets upstairs practically empty? No ingredients, no raw food, nothing. Just cooking utensils.

As he sliced with fluid precision, she couldn’t tear her eyes away. Each motion was so clean, so calculated. The knife glinted with every cut, and his fingers danced like they had muscle memory carved in.

Roman’s eyes flicked to her. He noticed her curiosity instantly.

"Come try it. Your neck might fall off at this rate," he said casually, lips twitching.

She snapped back, leaning away and clearing her throat quickly. "No, thank you," she said, trying to sound disinterested even though she was anything but. Cooking had always fascinated her. She just never was given the chance to learn. But she had promised herself she would...someday.

"Why? Afraid I will stab you from behind?" He teased, his voice low and playful, making her blink.

"Of course not," she replied quickly, frowning at him. ’Why would I ever be afraid of you?’

"Then come here," he said again, this time more softly, less a command, more a beckoning.

Something in his tone unraveled her resistance, and before she could talk herself out of it, she got up and walked over, stopping a single step away from him.

Without warning, Roman reached out, catching her wrist. She gasped lightly as he gently tugged her forward, bringing her to stand right in front of him, her back brushing against his chest.

"What are you..." she started, breath hitching. But then his arm came around her waist, just for a second, before he rested his hand on the counter and said, "I will guide you."

Her words died on her tongue. His warmth spread across her back, his body so close it blurred her thoughts. The air between them grew thick, pressing against her skin. She could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest, and it made her heart thud in response.

"You... you are too close," she whispered, ducking her head slightly as her pulse quickened.

But he ignored that. Instead, he lifted her hands, one at a time. A knife was placed in her right hand. Then he guided her left down onto a carrot.

"Don’t think about me," he whispered into her ear, voice so low and intimate it felt like a secret. His breath brushed against her neck, warm and maddening. "Think about the food."

Her knees threatened to give out. Goosebumps prickled across her skin as his presence surrounded her, firm and unwavering. And though she knew she should focus on the carrot, on the knife, on anything but him, her mind was full of nothing but him.