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Barbara laughed and handed Catarina a knife.“Everyone who cooks eventually burns something.”
Catarina pressed her lips into a line.“Yeah, but how many people mix up the salt and sugar?”
“More than you’d think,” Barbara chuckled.“The difference is most of us taste our batter before we bake it.”
“What about the raw eggs?”Catarina asked, frowning.“I thought we weren’t supposed to eat batter because of salmonella.I read that somewhere.”
Barbara waved a hand.“It’s true, but most bakers ignore it.We lick the spoon anyway.You’re far too disciplined.”
Catarina smoothed a hand down her navy dress.Disciplined wasn’t the word, she thought grimly.Sal fed her so well that she’d gained more weight than she ever had before, and he noticed if she skipped so much as a bite.
“He really likes brownies?”she asked, hesitant.
“Loves them,” Barbara replied, already slicing into the warm chocolate squares.She cut four generous pieces, slid them onto a plate, and handed it over Catarina’s hands.“Go!He’ll be grateful for these right now.”
Catarina hesitated.“Maybe I should test one first.You know, in case I messed up again—”
“Go,” Barbara interrupted firmly, her sternness softened with a conspiratorial wink.“I’ll give the rest to the guys.”
Still smiling weakly, Catarina clutched the plate like a shield as she walked down the hall.She paused at Sal’s office door, heart racing.He was reading a document, brow furrowed in concentration.That stern, focused line between his brows made her cheeks warm.She must have shifted because his head snapped up.
“Cata?”His expression softened the instant he saw her, then darkened again with concern.“Are you okay?Is something wrong?”
“I’m fine!”she gasped quickly, not wanting him to worry.She stepped into the office, clutching the plate tighter.“I just…um…made some brownies.Thought you might need a break.”
“Brownies?”His gaze dropped to the plate, then back to her.His eyes narrowed.“You made them?”
She almost rolled her eyes.The scowl wasn’t irritation—she knew that now.It was his clumsy way of hiding concern for her.On him, though, the scowl was…adorable.Dangerous, rugged, intimidating, but also—adorable.
She bit back a laugh.Dangerous men weren’t supposed to be cute.But somehow Sal was.
Then, unbidden, she remembered last night—the way he’d punished her by teasing with his mouth and fingers until she’d been half-laughing, half-crying from pleasure.Her cheeks heated furiously.
“Did you know your brow wrinkles when you concentrate?”she blurted, desperate to distract herself.She took two steps closer, then glanced at the open doorway.Boldness surged—maybe from Barbara’s wink, maybe from last night—so she walked back and pushed the heavy door shut.
Sal’s eyes changed instantly.Warmer.Sharper.Not alert in the way he was with business, but focused entirely on her.
“I do?”he asked, leaning back in his chair as if curious.
“Mm-hmm.”Catarina held the plate out like an offering.“It makes you look…less terrifying.”
One dark eyebrow shot up.“Less terrifying?”He took the plate, setting it on his desk.
Her lips curved.“Almost human.”
“Almost?”he echoed, standing now, moving toward her with deliberate slowness.
She tilted her head, her smile growing bolder.“Don’t worry.You’re still plenty scary.Just…cute scary.”
Oh, that sexy growl, she thought as he stood up, completely ignoring the brownies.“Did you just call me…cute?”he asked, moving around to the other side of the desk.He was playing right into her hands, she thought, unconsciously licking her lips.
“Yeah,” she replied, tilting her head back to look into his eyes.
He leaned forward, pressing his hips against hers, then she had to lean back slightly when he braced his hands on the surface of his desk.
“You know that I’m a very dangerous man, right?”
She almost giggled at his “dangerously” serious expression.
