CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT
MELINDA'S POV
"We have chefs for that."
"I don't want the chefs to do it. I wanted to do it myself." My voice came out sharper than I intended. "Is that really such a terrible thing?"
He stared at me for a long moment, his expression unreadable. The kitchen felt too small suddenly, the air too thick, like all the oxygen had been sucked out and replaced with tension. Bertha had gone very still beside me, probably wishing she was anywhere else.
"You shouldn't be working in the kitchen like a servant," Kieran said finally. "You're my wife, not the help."
"Cooking isn't being a servant. It's making something with my own hands, something that means more than just ordering from a menu." I pulled off the apron, suddenly furious in a way I hadn't expected. "But if you'd
