Free Stone Angel by Christina Dodd Page B

awoke Amanda from
her memories. Probably a good thing, since that bastard Liam had
crushed the hope that someone would finally take care of her, as
she had taken care of Sophia. Even now, his perfidy left an empty,
aching place in her heart.
    Her growling stomach reminded her she hadn’t
managed to swallow much of Martha’s dinner. She would join
whichever of the Chosen Ones was pilfering from the fridge.
    Jogging down the stairs to the basement,
Amanda stopped short.
    Apparently the other person who had had the
leftovers idea was Liam.
    He stood in the massive kitchen, heaping goat
cheese and roasted garlic onto a piece of toasted bread, a glass of
deep red wine standing at the ready next to his plate of olives and
cold shrimp. Amanda had to admire a man with that much of an
appetite, especially one wearing snug blue jeans and not a thing on
his chiseled chest except for a dusting of black hair and the famed
dragon tattoo. “Aren’t you cold?” she blurted.
    He looked up, looked her over, and smiled.
Smiled as if the sight of her with her bedhead hair, crummy blue
bathroom and fuzzy green socks gave him pleasure. “Well, what have
we here?” he asked. “Another lover of the midnight snack?”
    Amanda cleared her throat and tried to focus
on anything other than that dragon, sprawling across his chest in
glorious Technicolor, clawing at his gorgeously muscled bare torso.
And his tousled black hair that she wanted to run her fingers
through. And that smile that cajoled and reassured.
    The man was lethal — in more ways than
one.
    “Or perhaps another insomniac. Are you
worried, darlin’, about tomorrow?”
    “Yes.”
    “It’s a good plan you came up with. As good a
plan as is possible considering who — or what — we’re dealing with.
So don’t worry.” Liam projected reassurance. “And have a little
snack.”
    “Yes. Thank you.” She appreciated his
reassurance even more than his offer of food. “I would like that.
The snack, I mean. I didn’t eat much at dinner.”
    “Neither did I, darlin’. Planning and eating
don’t seem to go hand-in-hand.” Liam grabbed another crimson plate
from the stack in the tall, glass-front cupboards and set it on the
granite tabletop to fill with food.
    “Although I should get back to bed.” She
really should. She should run away and try to ignore her growling
stomach. Because sharing a quiet meal with Liam was foolhardy. She
knew it.
    And yet she lingered.
    Ignoring her, Liam pulled Tupperware
containers out of the fridge, opening them and placing a little of
each delicious food on Amanda’s plate. Soon, she had an array of
tidbits that made her mouth water. Liam moved like a man
comfortable in a kitchen, pulling a sparkling wine glass out of the
hanging racks and filling it with wine from the open bottle.
    Amanda watched mesmerized until Liam silently
offered her a bench seat at the enormous granite-topped table.
Shaking her head, she moved to the other side of the table.
    He pushed the plate over to her and sat down
opposite.
    She wrapped ham around a caper berry and
dipped both in whole-grain mustard.
    Heaven. The dates, almonds, sliced Serrano
ham, caper berries, and pesto-smeared bread were precisely what her
tired mind needed, and she thoroughly enjoyed herself — until she
realized Liam watched her intently.
    “Can I help you?” she asked, an annoyed edge
to her voice.
    Liam smiled slowly, seductively. “Only if you
can tell me how you can look so sexy while eating.”
    He was
mocking her, and she did not appreciate it.
    So what if she enjoyed eating? That was no
reason to make her self-conscious about it.
    But Liam didn’t seem to be following her
train of thought. Instead he picked one of the dates off her plate,
sliced it halfway through with a sharp knife, slid a spiced almond
inside, and held it out for her.
    “Liam,” Amanda said firmly, “I don’t need to
be fed.”
    “You’ll like it, I promise. The cumin on the
almond plays upon the