He leaned into his chair and enjoyed her apparent appreciation for the meal. Every time, she’d chew, swallow, and wash each bite down with the wine, then let out a sigh of contentment.
An image of dragging his tongue along her wet lips and tasting the alcohol beat inside his mind. Would she be sugary, spicy, or acidic?
That little mouth brought a vision of sweet summer pudding to mind.
He stifled a groan and shifted in his seat.
Eager for a distraction to control his thumping heart and lusty thoughts, he broke the silence.
“So, why’d you run away from your fiancé? The poor bloke doesn’t have a big enough bank account for your taste?” He bit into the ratatouille and swallowed. “Or perhaps, his knob isn't behemoth enough?”
Okay, he knew he was being a real shite, but he couldn’t seem to get his mind straight.
“Knob? What the hell is that?”
“You know.” He looked down at his lap, then met her gaze again.
The glare she threw his way would’ve burned a lesser man to cinders.
Her lips tightened. Moving her defiant stare across his face, she lingered on the scar before stopping at his neck.
He froze under the scrutiny and wondered if she found the sight of the ugly blemish disgusting.Who didn’t?Anger built inside, and his smile dropped.
The fireplace crackled, and a low roll of thunder vibrated the floor.
Her brow smoothed, and a sardonic smirk twisted one corner of her mouth. She flipped a lock of hair away with the back of a hand and leaned into her chair. The glass of wine swirled in a cupped palm.
“Not that it’s any of your business”—her thumb traced the rim—“but Pops promised me to Lorenzo’s family when I was younger. So, I had no say in the matter, and no one cared what I thought anyhow. I took fate into my own hands and escaped.”
There was no look of horror in her eyes. If anything, she seemed intrigued by his flaw and uncommon gaze. His shoulders relaxed.
“Then I must make a toast to fate.” He raised a half-empty glass into the air. “Because it delivered an interesting little rat to my door.”
To his surprise, she didn’t balk or refute the statement. She lifted her wine in return, then gazed at his neck. Her full lips quivered with mirth.
What does she find so amusing?The thought gnawed at him, like an itch he couldn’t quite reach. He was doing his best to insult and bait her, yet she seemed to have found immunity to the slights and jabs.
He sharpened his gaze, searching her delicate face for any tell-tale signs of her sudden good humor.
Did she spot Cyan?No. If she’d spied the little demonic dragon, she wouldn’t be smiling—she’d be screaming.
When her eyelids rose, it was as if she realized he followed her stare. She cut her attention to the food on the table.
A deep blush colored her cheeks, and she ran a finger over the edge of the dress’s bodice.
Light reflected from the material before a thumb covered its wink. Fin’s attention wandered over the dark glow of her skin with appreciation. The golden glint reminded him of the ring.
His fist grabbed at the chain.
Finding the skin bare and empty, a choked cry shot out of his mouth.
Chapter 11
Sacha
Shenearlystrangledona cackle and had to cover it with a cough.
His eyes widened, his jaw grew slack, and his hands roamed over his chest and neck like he was trying to coerce the ring to reappear.
