SIENNA’S POV
“f**k,” I swore under my breath as I stumbled on my feet. Grabbing the balustrade, I steadied myself then sighed.
The aroma of food was heavier downstairs, and I followed it.
The new cook stood at the island, her back to me.
Shifting, I folded my arms over my chests, and propped one bare feet up by the heel as I watched her.
Her shoulders broad and relaxed as she worked. The kitchen smelled even richer and warmer. I was almost sure it was onions caramelizing slowly in the pan on top of the cooker.
I don't know what gave my presence away but the cook suddenly paused and turned her head. Our eyes locked and I smiled.
“Hello ma'am,” she beamed, then turned back to washing and cutting up a vegetable I couldn't name.
I watched her for a moment before speaking.
“What’s your
