He picked up his paper. “You missed the last one.”
“I did?” She sounded shocked.
“Yes. My biggest fear is spiders.”
Her eyes squinted with doubt. “Spiders? A big strapping man like you has a fear of spiders? I don’t believe it.” She crossed her arms and shook her head. “Nope, you’re lying, and you’re cheating.”
He threw up his hands in frustration. “I’ll show you the answer sheet. You, my dear, are wrong. It’s possible, although probably not realistic, that I’ve somehow gotten an answer wrong myself. So, without further delay, let me read my answers to you.”
“Fine,” she bit off.
What right did she have to be angry anyway? He was the offended party. Kessen thought she knew him so well. It would be a dark day in Hell before he admitted to her she was correct in her assumption. The truly upsetting issue was, she had gathered that by only spending a few days with him.
Scary indeed.
Time to focus, he thought, then began reading aloud his answers. “You do not snore, but it’s also a tricky question, because you do tend to talk in your sleep. Nick refers to it as your own made-up language. Something like the Elvish tongue from Lord of the Rings.” He leaned forward and winked. “Just for your information, I am counting down the days until I can experience your private language myself.”
“Dream on,” she muttered.
He blew her a kiss and continued. “You love the Wall Street Journal, because the front of the page allows you to read every single news story within ten minutes. You’re able to find out which stories you want to read the most and which stories you’d rather not know about, without having to search the entire newspaper.”
She shifted uncomfortably and avoided eye contact.
“I’m not finished,” he said, snapping his fingers in front of her face. “You do have some odd habits. The oddest of them all is you have to smell everything you eat before it goes into your mouth. Including drinks and candy, but excluding anything chocolate, for the simple reason chocolate never changes. It is your one constant in your life.” He looked up from his paper and sighed. “Does it bother you that the longest relationship you’ve had has been with a piece of food?”
She threw a pillow at his face.
Thankfully, he knew her better than she thought and ducked just in time. Instead the pillow struck one of his family heirlooms and sent it flying through the air.
She gasped and closed her eyes. “Please tell me that was not the same vase your great-grandfather gave your great-grandmother in the last book I read.”
He shrugged slyly. “Alright then, it’s not the same vase.”
“Oh no. Oh no.”
“Kessen!” He grabbed her hands. “It’s fine. There are more family heirlooms. I’ll continue reading to get your mind off it, okay?”
She whimpered.
He took that as a yes. “Your biggest fear is you’ll somehow let your father down, which, on a more personal note, you should realize is basically an irrational fear. Your father loves you, and you could never disappoint him.”
She sucked in a breath and stared, obviously not expecting what he said. In fact, he hadn’t expected to respond in that way either. Why was it always easier helping others with their fears instead of conquering his own?
“Ahem,” he said. “Last, but not least. You sleep with a Little Mermaid nightlight, which I believe sufficiently proves you are terrified of the dark.”
Kessen’s mouth dropped open. “You got all of them right!”
“I did?” He tried to sound surprised.
“I can’t believe it!”
“Nor can I!” he agreed, knowing wholeheartedly if he hadn’t cheated, he would have lost miserably. Christian had no idea what her biggest fear was, or that she slept with a nightlight.
“But, but—”
“Use your words, Kessen,” he joked.
“That means…”
He waited, but she just stared, leaving him no choice but to grab her hands and say softly, “It means we’re having a slumber party.”
“Yay,” came her reply, albeit dry and dripping with sarcasm.
He would take it, though. In all actuality, he would take whatever he could get with this woman … and more.
Noticing Kessen wasn’t feeling comfortable at all he decided to lighten the mood. “How about we go outside, start a bonfire, throw in some of Nick and Duncan’s favorite shirts, and roast some marshmallows?”
Her eyes lit up. “It’s like you read my mind.”
Christian held out his hand for Kessen. It always was a stupid idea for them to touch. He clenched his teeth as her smooth hand wrapped around his. Blast, he was nearly brought to his knees just by touching her hand. When had a woman ever had this much power over him? The blood roared in his ears as he delicately led her through the house to the outside area for entertaining.
A small fire pit was located on the far end of the deck, as well as a few skewers to put marshmallows on.
Now all he needed to do was start the fire.
“You do know how to start a fire, don’t you?” Kessen asked doubtfully.
“I am a man,” he snapped.
“And that makes you knowledgeable because…?”
He snorted. “It’s part of being a man, something you’re born with, just like knowing how to spit and shoot things with a gun.”
She nodded her head. “Okay, my lord, so build the fire.”
He scratched his head in irritation, then looked around. No wood, no kindling, no matches. Where did the staff keep all the supplies?
He looked back to Kessen, but by the look on her face, she would rather die a thousand deaths than help him. How hard could building a fire from scratch be? All he needed was to chop down a tree and find some old newspaper.
“I’m going to go get some wood. You go get yesterday’s newspaper.” With that he left to locate an ax. Upon returning, Christian found Kessen sitting with two newspapers in her lap.
He rolled his eyes and walked past her to the Christmas tree farm behind their house. It had been around for years, and now would serve the purpose of being kindling.
The ax was heavier than expected, making him thankful he was the athletic sort. He swung the ax and got the tree to fall after only four blows. It wasn’t extremely impressive, considering the tree wasn’t large, but he had half a mind to turn around and growl just so Kessen could see how much of a man he was.