The way he looks at me makes something low within me clench. “Because when you’re near me, I have trouble keeping my hands to myself,” he says in a low, dark voice.
My stomach whooshes like a trapdoor has sprung beneath my chair. I cross my legs against an instant ache. Maybe the table isn’t long enough after all.
I’m relieved when Zaire chooses that moment to enter the room and slide a caprese salad in front of each of us, then disappears.
“He doesn’t eat with you?”
“Sometimes he does. These days he’s usually too involved with his work to take the time.”
“He paints here?” I look toward the hall as if I can see the art studio through the wall.
“He paints everywhere. His life is painting.”
“And serving you.”
A muscle in his jaw twitches. “Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it,” he drawls.
“Someone thinks highly of themselves.”
“He chooses to be here. He likes it with me.”
“Like I choose to be here? Which is to say, no choice at all.” Anger sparks inside me and offers some relief to the hot, burning need that’s building low within me.
He heaves a sigh and stabs his salad.
“I’m sorry.” I give my head a hard shake. “I didn’t come out here to fight. I don’t know what comes over me, but every time we’re in the same room, I feel like I want to fight or…”Oh shit.Shut the fuck up, Fiona.
“Fight or fuck,” he finishes for me with a deep laugh. “Would it help you to know I feel the same way?”
My cheeks heat. “Maybe.”
“When’s your birthday?”
“December first.”
He presses two fingers into his ridiculously full lips.
“What’s so funny?”
“You’re a Sagittarius. A fire sign. As am I, an Aries. We bring out each other’s fire.”
“So we’re destined to fight? Even if you hadn’t kidnapped me and I didn’t hate you?”
He flinches, his smirk morphing into a pained scowl. “You don’t hate me, Fiona,” he says with absolute certainty. “You just don’t understand how to interpret the feelings I evoke in you.”
Fuck. I hate that he’s right. I should hate him. I don’t. I take a bite of my salad and chew slowly to distract myself from his comment. “Both fire signs, huh? I guess that means if we were together, we’d burn out quickly. Like a shooting star.”
“No,” he says in a voice so smooth it feels like a caress. “An Aries and a Sagittarius never stop burning foreach other. And they’re never bored. Both of our signs love a challenge.”
I snort. “I’ve had enough challenge for one lifetime. I think I could take some boredom.”
He frowns, biting his lip like he’s trying to find the right words. “I’m reading your series. It’s been a while since you had a new release.”
“Over a year.”
“What happened? Did something change?”
I put another bite in my mouth. Too serious. Too personal. I don’t like to talk about it. Time to turn the tables. I point my fork at him. “So you’re a chef who’s a dragon who kidnaps women on the side. How does one work their way into that job? Is there some kind of program or internship? Do you practice throwing CPR dummies in wedding dresses over your shoulder?”
