Chapter 7
"WHO told you to go and work in the kitchen?"
Grayson's voice cut through the air, sharp and absolute. His gray eyes bore into Aurora, pinning her in place.
She swallowed, lowering her gaze. He was too handsome—and too intimidating to look at for long.
"No one," she murmured, her fingers nervously twisting together.
A touch—light but firm, tipped her chin up. She flinched subconsciously.
Grayson’s fingers held her still, forcing her to meet his eyes.
"Then what were you doing there?" His voice remained void of warmth.
Aurora's breath faltered. Her lips parted, but the weight of his gaze left her struggling for words.
"I–I just wanted to…" she faltered, then forced herself to finish. "To make you a simple breakfast… as a token of gratitude for saving my mother."
For a fr
