“What happened? Someone set fire to your desk chair?”
He blinked. “Huh?”
With a grin, she repeated the question.
“No, there’s no fire. I would have called the fire department if there was,” he told her earnestly.
“I’m surprised you know the number.”
“Numbers are my thing,” he told her, with all the sagacity of Dumbledore parting wisdom to Harry.
“They’re not, are they?” she pretended to gasp.
He frowned. “I’m concerned, Sascha. Has the concussion made you forget even the basic things?” Before she could do more than snicker, he continued, “I noticed that you put a flower on my desk. I looked that up online, but I can’t see why you’d do something like that unless it’s because you’re sick.”
Withholding her chuckle was impossible. “It’s not a flower, Devon. It’s a cactus.”
He wafted a disinterested hand. “It wasn’t listed on the symptoms of concussion I found online.”
“It has nothing to do with my having a headache.” She tutted under her breath. “I wanted you to have some green in your room.”
“But why?” he demanded, sounding bewildered.
Stepping further into the kitchen, he took a seat opposite her at the counter. “Because your room is chaos. So, I’ve decided I’ll be adding more things to your office,” she warned. “You need more oxygen in there.”
“There’s plenty to go around.”
“You won’t let me open the windows in there. It stinks.”
“How can it stink? We don’t do anything in there apart from work.”
“It smells like there’s no fresh air in that room,” she retorted. “Fresh air is good. Stale air is bad.”
He glowered. “I like it that way.”
“Well, I don’t. I’ve been researching which flowers and houseplants bring more oxygen into a room. I’m warning you ahead of time. There’ll be more coming your way.”
“I won’t water them,” came his staunch reply.
She snickered. “Honey, if I’d expected you to water them, I might as well expect to pick the winning lottery numbers tomorrow.”
“Now you’re being sarcastic.”
“Good job for picking up on that,” she congratulated him as she moved around the counter with a dish in her hand. It charmed her when he got to his feet immediately and met her more than halfway.
He could be a forgetful clod most of the time, but he was as debonair and gentlemanly as the rest of them.
He grabbed the platter and tutted. “You should have asked me to get the dish. It’s too heavy for you.” Before he returned to the table, he said, “Sorry. I forgot.” And bent down to kiss her softly on the lips.
Breathily, taken aback by his kiss although she was getting used to their new habit of greeting her this way, she replied, “I could get used to being waited on by you guys,” she murmured softly, smiling as he placed the dish in the center of the table just so—bang in the middle of the round mat so that there was equal distance all around it.
She often wondered what he saw when he looked around the world.
Whatever it was, it wasn’t what she and the rest of them saw. For all their brilliance, Devon worked to a whole other scale, and that was a part of his charm if she was being honest.
“I didn’t hear any noise down here, and your hair looks normal,” he commented as he reached for a few more dishes she stacked on the top.
Dinner consisted of a large bowl of pasta, another of an Amatriciana sauce complete with large chunks of tender pig cheek and sweet tomatoes, a dish of slivered parmesan cheese, and a long breadboard with garlic bread on it.
“Why would you? I was cooking. And what does my hair have to do with anything?” she asked, perplexed with the segue.
“You and Kurt were down here.”
“So? And that was ages ago.” She took a seat at the head of the table and asked him to, “Hit the intercom again, please. It’s getting cold.”
He wandered over to the intercom at the other side of the kitchen, pressed it, then said, “If you don’t come down now, I’ll eat your portions.”
She tilted her head to the side as he came back to her and sat next to her. “Aren’t you getting enough food?”
Eying the pasta dish which contained over a kilo of dried spaghetti, as well as the large tureen of sauce, and the four loaves of garlic bread, she mentally calculated how she’d make their portions bigger. Of course, that was unnecessary, because he shook his head.
“Nope. You feed us enough,” he told her with a smile as he began to serve himself. “I was just making an empty threat.”
“We should wait for the others.”
He shrugged. “I’m hungry, and on time. You snooze, you lose.”
Grinning at him, she watched him dish up, and then remembered what he’d said. “Oh yeah, you were saying something about Kurt and I being downstairs in the kitchen earlier?”
He blinked. “I thought you were having sex that’s why I didn’t come down for cookies.”
Her mouth dropped open. “Why would you think that?”
“I heard you the other day, and Kurt likes to have sex in odd places.”
A snicker sounded from behind her. “What a glorious time to arrive at the dinner table.”
She shot Andrei a quelling look, which had him shrugging before he bent down and kissed her temple. “What? It is!”
As he took a seat, Devon peppered him, “Am I right or wrong, Andrei? Doesn’t Kurt fuck in weird places?”
Andrei served himself too, and as he loaded sauce onto the dish and grabbed bread, he nodded. “Yes. Expect to get used to feeling things sticking into your ass.”
“See, I told you,” Devon said proudly. “And don’t worry,” he confided. “I sprayed down the table after you had sex on it.” He patted her hand.
She choked at that.
“Do you need some water?” he asked, innocently.
“No,” she retorted, feeling a little hot under the collar at his line of thought.
Andrei, spying this, grinned. “It’s nice to know the whole house will be disinfected from time to time.”
Glowering at him, she retorted, “I expect this from him, not you.”
He shrugged, but shot her a wicked grin which slowly and tenderly morphed into a gentle smile. “How’s the head?”
“Bad.”
The confession had Devon frowning. “When are you going to see the doctor again?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.” Jesus, she hated going to clinics.
“That page I looked at says headaches are common for a while after the concussion,” he tried to reassure her which was the cutest thing ever. As well as the fact he’d thought of her while he was in super-math-genius mode.
Was there any other way to melt around these guys than the many ways she had already?
Andrei shook his head. “Doesn’t mean she shouldn’t go to the doctor anyway. Kurt said something about you agreeing to go next week?”
“Only if things haven’t improved,” she retorted, a tad stubbornly.
Andrei cocked a brow at her, but before he could say anything, Sawyer and Sean made their way down the stairs. Before heading for their respective seats, Sawyer kissed her on the cheek, Sean on the lips.
Jesus, was she the only one feeling flustered around here or what?
Fanning herself would have been too obvious, so instead, she took a drink of ice water and hoped it would stop her from melting.
“What hasn’t improved?”
Andrei looked at Sean. “The headache situation.”
Sean immediately scowled. “Why haven’t you gone to the doctor’s again?”
She huffed. “Because I don’t want to. We’ve already had this discussion.”
Sawyer, as he dosed himself up with spaghetti, murmured, “I’ll go with you, lass. I hate doctors too. They give me the willies.”
She blinked at that, then snorted.
Even though she was uncomfortable with the topic of conversation, she had to laugh. “The willies? What the fuck are they?”
“Not penises,” Devon informed her. “It’s a phrase.”
Andrei clicked his fingers. “I know this one. Heebie-jeebies?”
She chuckled. “How do you know that?”
“A misspent youth watching too many Home Alone movies on repeat.”
Snickering at the precision of his comment, she turned to Sawyer and said, “You’d really go with me even though doctors give you the willies?”
He shrugged. “Course.”
Touched to the point where her stomach churned with excess emotion, she whispered, “Thank you.”
Apparently uncomfortable with her regard, he shifted in his seat. “You don’t have to thank me.”
“Sure I do.” She cleared her throat, overwhelmed by the knowledge he’d go to the clinic with her even though he didn’t like it.
But, wouldn’t she do the same for any of them?
And, if they were experiencing headaches as fucking painful as the ones she was having, wouldn’t she make them go, and sit with them, too?
Fuck.
Overwhelmed wasn’t the word, as she realized exactly how far along her feelings were for these men. Was it possible to fall in love when you were halfway to the ground already? Wasn’t that more a case of ‘fallen’?
The intercom buzzed, and she embraced its meaning with relief. Jerking upright, then wincing as her head throbbed after the too-swift move, she stated quickly, “I’ll get the door.”
Sean frowned. “You should sit down. I’ll go.”
“No. I’m good. Eat. You’re growing boys,” she tried to tease, and wasn’t sure she’d hit the mark when they all looked at each other uncertainly—shit, she must look like hell if they were studying her the way they were.
“If you’re sure?”
“Positive,” she retorted, already on the stairs and on the way up to the first floor.
Each step she took had her head pounding, and she couldn’t contain the slight groan that fell from her lips. Leaning against the wall, she gathered her breath, then stepped on toward the front door.
Opening it, she blinked at the woman standing there. “Yes?” she asked, when the stranger looked her up and down.
“Let me in,” came the snooty retort.
“Excuse me?” Sascha demanded, rearing back at the sharp command, her dizziness forgotten. “Who are you?”
Behind her, the sound of footfall coming down the stairs had her turning around. As she did, she saw Kurt was on his way, looking harried—he must have thought the second buzz of the intercom was the reminder for dinner, and he knew she hated it when they let their food go cold.
She wasn’t sure if the men needed a housekeeper and a lover, or a mother sometimes.
The way she moved, however, gave him a perfect view of the woman at the door. His eyes widened at the sight, and he froze in place.
“Katrin? What the fuck are you doing here?”
AUTHOR’S NOTE:
WORSHIPPED BY THEM, part three of Quintessence, is now available on AMAZON.
Oh, and if you sign up for my mailing list, click HERE, you can grab a free, full-length read! I don’t spam; I’m way too lazy. But I do email updates on new releases.
Thanks for reading! <3
WORSHIPPED BY THEM
This Reverse Harem Romance is a five part series. Be prepared for weekly releases of this red hot read!
SAWYER
Sawyer’s a mathematician.
In his thirties, he might have won a Nobel Prize, and he might be worth a couple of million as a result of his research, but of all the men sharing the same Kensington roof, he’s the most normal.
Born into poverty, Sawyer knows what it means to feel hunger. But, one thing he was never starved of was love.
Of all the men he considers his brothers, Sawyer knows he’s the least messed up in the head. In many ways, he knows it’s down to him and Sean, the other rational one of the bunch, to keep their unusual household adrift.
For years, they’ve looked for a woman who could fulfill their needs. For years, they’d despaired. But Sascha is so much more than they were ever looking for. Through her, the world is different. No longer as cold, as uncaring.
Her love becomes a lifeline, so when that lifeline comes under threat, Sawyer’s ready to attack.
With ex-wives and mysterious saboteurs dive-bombing into their world, life couldn’t get much crazier. Still, with his level-head, it’s down to him to make sure Sascha knows he and the rest of his brothers worship the ground she walks on.
Can he convince her before the danger stalking her attacks?
Find out in Worshipped by Them.
Book Three of the Quintessence series!
Charmed by Them 3/15
Healed by Them 3/22
Worshipped by Them 3/29
Protected by Them 4/5
Loved by Them 4/12
Quintessence total series word count: 180k.
SERENA AKEROYD’S BACKLIST
ALL AVAILABLE ON AMAZON
Anchor Pride Series
Claimed by Caden
McKinnon’s Mate
Dragon Style
Christmas: Dragon Style
Valentine’s: Dragon Style
The Corsakis
Three’s Never A Crowd
Old Enough to Know Better
The Federation
A Menage Made on Madison
The Four Winds
The Angel’s Kiss
Jayce Ventura – Ghost Detective Series
Ghost Detective
Ghost Avenger
La Belle sans La Bete Series
Menage Material
A Thoroughly Modern Menage
The Luck of Love Series
The Luck of Love
The Power of Love
The Strength of Love
The Depth of Love
Naughty Nookie Series
Mona
Marina
Touched
The Raw Touch
The Yank Effect
YANKED
Quintessence
Charmed by Them
Healed by Them: A Reverse Harem Romance (Quintessence Book 2) Page 11
