Savage Nature - Christine Feehan [49]
“I couldn’t let you go out for the day without eatin’ ,” the innkeeper replied. “And please call me Pauline. Everyone else does.”
He turned his attention to the amount of food spread out on the table, determined to act as blasé as Saria. Carefully he lifted each lid to look into the heated dish.
“That’s breaded, pan-fried trout fillet, poached eggs and hollandaise sauce,” Pauline offered, a hint of pride in her voice.
Saria scooted some onto her plate. “And no one makes it quite like Miss Pauline, Drake. You’ve got to tryI’ve worked for years to get this dish right. I’m nearly there, too, but not quite yet. I need a little more time to figure out the right seasonin’.”
He took a healthy helping, ignoring the drawling, sexy way she pronounced his name. “I can see I’ll be gaining weight while I’m here,” he said. “I do love to eat.”
Pauline beamed. “I love cookin’. Try some of my Creole rice cakes.” She took the lid off another warmer.
Both Saria and Drake helped themselves.
“You have to try a couche-couche,” Saria added. “It’s Cajun-style fried corn meal mush, very yummy.”
Pauline poured them both coffee and added a large plate of hot beignets within reach of both of them. “The cream is fresh,” she said. “You’ll want that with your café.”
He grinned at her. “I suppose that means the coffee’s strong.”
Saria nodded. “Café au lait is best with beignets anyway.” She took a sip of the rich aromatic liquid and then a bite of the warm doughnut.
He glanced at her and his heart nearly stopped. Her eyes were dark chocolate and laughing, the golden flecks brightly gleaming with mischief. The tempting bow of her mouth had a trace of white powdered sugar on it and he nearly leaned over the table to lick it off. She was so beautiful to him, so filled with life, so damned sexy he could barely breathe with wanting her.
“You’re eating dessert before you eat your breakfast.” He tried to sound stern, but it was impossible when she was enjoying herself so much. She definitely was tucking into her food, unafraid of ruining her figure.
“It’s all about the calories, my friend,” she said. “Eat up.”
He did lean across the table then, unable to stop himself, and brushed the powdered sugar from her mouth with gentle fingers, lingering a little, mesmerized by the softness of her full bottom lip. Her eyes went dark, desire flaring for a moment, just enough to satisfy him.
Pauline cleared her throat, reminding him he wasn’t alone with Saria. The innkeeper managed not to smirk at him. Drake cut her off neatly before she could switch subjects. “I was just telling Pauline about the horrible noises I heard last night. Something large was fighting or killing something else. It sounded like large cats to me.”
Saria didn’t look up, fussing with her napkin. “That would be strange, Drake. We don’ have large cats in the swamp anymore. The last one was shot in sixty-six, wasn’t it, Miss Pauline? I remember mon pere tellin’ us how sad it was.”
“There are legends,” Pauline pointed out. “My sister’s husband and his father were out fishin’ when he was young and they claim they saw a panther, but if they did, it was a ghost, cuz there were no tracks left behind.”
“You have to get used to the sounds in the swamp,” Saria added. “I’m often in the swamp at night workin’ and it can be a little scary.”
His head went up. “What the hell are you doing in the swamp at night?” He looked to Pauline for confirmation. “She shouldn’t do that, should she?”
“No, she shouldn’t,” Pauline ou ternly. “What time did you come in last night? I didn’t hear anything.”
“Probably your sleeping aid,” Drake pointed out helpfully. He helped himself to more trout and eggs. The woman was lying her ass off, but he appreciated how smoothly she did it and there was no sense in passing up a great meal.
Saria leaned toward Drake with a laugh. “It wasn’ her sleepin’ aid, my man. I’m a ninja. No one ever hears