Ella reached the bottom of the stairs, her damp hair now dry and soft, falling loosely around her shoulders. She was still adjusting the oversized sweater Nicholas had lent her when an older man in a crisp uniform approached her with a polite bow.
"Miss, dinner has been prepared. If you would please follow to the dining room," the butler said with practiced grace.
Ella blinked, taken aback. "Dinner?"
"Yes, ma’am. Mr. Nicholas insisted," he replied, motioning toward a wide archway leading to a beautifully set dining area.
Ella stepped into the dining room, her fingers still combing through her freshly dried hair. The faint scent of Nicholas’shampoo lingered on her, a reminder of how surreal her day had beco. She paused, her eyes widening as she took in the lavish spread laid out on the long dining table. Plates of rich pasta, roasted vegetables, fresh seafood, and a basket of warm bread filled the room with mouthwatering aromas.
The butler, a composed older gentleman with a slight bow, gestured toward the table. "Hope you enjoy, miss," he said politely, stepping aside.
Ella blinked, her gaze darting between the food and the butler. "This... all of this is for dinner?" she asked, incredulous.
"Of course," ca Nicholas’ smooth voice from behind her. She turned to find him leaning casually against the doorway, his hands in his pockets. He had changed into a casual outfit—dark jeans and a simple gray sweater that sohow made him look even more effortlessly attractive. "Don’t tell you’re shy about eating. I’ll be offended."
"I—" Ella hesitated, glancing at the table again. It wasn’t just the quantity of the food; it was the quality. Everything looked expensive, decadent, and ticulously prepared. She couldn’t even rember the last ti she’d had a proper al, let alone sothing this extravagant.
"I’m not even hungry," she said weakly, her voice lacking conviction.
As if on cue, her stomach betrayed her with a loud growl, the sound echoing in the quiet room. Ella froze, mortified, while Nicholas’ lips curved into a slow, mischievous grin.
"Well, well," he drawled, stepping closer. "Looks like your stomach has other plans."
Ella’s cheeks turned a furious shade of red. "It’s not funny," she muttered, clutching her arms across her middle as if to silence the offending noise.
"It’s adorable," Nicholas countered, his grin widening. "Co on, sit. You’re not going anywhere until you’ve eaten sothing."
Before she could argue, he placed a firm hand on her lower back, guiding her toward the table. His touch was light but commanding, and she found herself obeying without protest.
"I really shouldn’t," she tried one last ti, though her resolve was crumbling fast under the enticing aroma of the food.
Nicholas pulled out a chair for her, his dark eyes locking onto hers as he leaned in slightly. "Ella," he said softly, his voice laced with teasing warmth. "If you don’t sit and eat, I’ll have no choice but to feed you myself. And trust , I won’t be gentle about it."
Her eyes widened at his words, and the faintest smirk played at his lips. She quickly sank into the chair, her cheeks burning. "Fine," she muttered, avoiding his gaze.
"Good girl," he said, his tone low and amused as he took the seat directly across from her.
Ella’s stomach growled again as she took in the feast before her. Reluctantly, she picked up a fork and reached for a plate of pasta. The first bite was heaven—rich, creamy, and perfectly seasoned. She couldn’t help the small sigh of satisfaction that escaped her.
Nicholas noticed, of course. He was watching her like a hawk, his chin resting on one hand as he leaned casually on the table. "Good?" he asked, a knowing smile tugging at his lips.
Ella nodded, too embarrassed to speak. She focused on her plate, but she could feel his gaze on her, as if he were cataloging her every reaction.
"You don’t eat like this often, do you?" he asked, breaking the silence.
Her fork paused mid-air. "Not... really," she admitted, though her tone was guarded.
Nicholas tilted his head, studying her. "Why not?"
Ella shrugged, keeping her eyes on her plate. "Life’s complicated."
He didn’t press further, but his curiosity was evident. "Well, complicated or not, you’re here now. So enjoy it."
She couldn’t help but glance up at him, surprised by the sincerity in his voice. "Why are you being so nice to ?" she asked before she could stop herself.
Nicholas leaned back, his smirk returning. "Because I can be."
"That’s not an answer," she muttered, her cheeks flushing again.
"It’s the only one you’re getting right now," he said smoothly, lifting a glass of water to his lips.
Ella rolled her eyes, trying to focus on her al. But every ti she looked up, she caught Nicholas watching her, his dark gaze filled with amusent and sothing else she couldn’t quite na.
"You’re staring," she finally said, setting her fork down and crossing her arms.
Nicholas raised an eyebrow, unfazed. "You’re pretty. Can you bla ?"
Her face heated, and she looked away quickly. "You’re annoying," she muttered under her breath.
"And you’re fun to tease," he shot back, his grin widening.
Ella huffed, though the corners of her mouth twitched against her will. She finished her al in silence, trying her best to ignore the way Nicholas’ presence seed to fill the room.
When she finally set her fork down, Nicholas leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. "Feel better now?" he asked.
She nodded hesitantly, her embarrassnt replaced by a faint sense of gratitude. "Yes. Thank you."
"Good," he said simply, standing and walking around the table. Before she knew it, he was beside her chair, his hand outstretched.
"What are you doing now?" she asked warily.
"I’m giving you a tour," he said, his tone leaving no room for argunt.
Ella hesitated, staring at his outstretched hand. "I don’t need a tour," she said.
"Yes, you do," he replied, his smirk softening into sothing almost gentle. "You’re not leaving until tomorrow. Might as well get comfortable."
After a mont’s hesitation, Ella sighed and placed her hand in his. His fingers closed around hers, warm and secure, and she felt the slightest flutter in her chest.
"Fine," she said, allowing him to pull her to her feet. "But no funny business."
Nicholas chuckled, his dark eyes glinting with mischief. "No promises."
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