Without hesitation, Malik began selecting food from several silver platters and ceramic bowls and carefully arranging it on her plate.
I sat speechless on the other side of the table, watching.
Who was this man?
“Shall I load your plate next?” Malik asked, cocking a perfectly arched eyebrow.
“No!” I snapped, my voice more forceful than intended. Heat crawled up my neck as I quickly reached for a muffin, tearing off a chunk and stuffing it into my mouth.
Malik smirked.
Ignoring him, I ate, sneaking occasional glances at him and Rosie.
It must be his dark, seductive power. He’s tricking her the same way he tricks me.
I chewed thoughtfully, my mouth full of plum pudding, studying him.
Malik scooped up a serving of pudding and plopped it into Rosie’s bowl before adding a generous slice of pie.
“And now for dessert,”he declared.
Rosie eagerly dug into the plum pudding, slurping it up noisily like an overenthusiastic puppy.
Malik wagged his finger. “Ah, ah, ah, Rosie—where are your manners? You must eat with decorum.”
Rosie froze, glanced at him, and then at her bowl before dramatically adjusting her posture and taking dainty, delicate bites. She was the very picture of a refined little princess.
Malik chuckled. “Much better. But use a fork for the pie.”
He handed her a small silver fork, and she took it with her tiny fingers, carefully spearing a bite of berry pie.
“Perfect!” Malik praised, his voice warm, indulgent.
Rosie grinned and patted her tummy. “I’m full.”
“I see that,” Malik said, his gaze brimming with something unreadable—satisfaction, perhaps? Pride? He looked like a father pleased with his child’s success.
“Why don’t you help Cook in the kitchen?” he suggested. “I’m sure she’d appreciate the assistance.”
For a moment, Rosie hesitated, then tilted her head up at him, her eyes full of wide, innocent affection.
“Can I stay with you and sit in your lap?” she asked softly.
Malik smiled, indulgent, patient, dangerously charming.
“Of course,” he murmured.
He patted his thigh.
Rosie giggled and eagerly climbed into his embrace, nestling against his chest like she belonged there.
I gripped my fork a little too tightly.
Something about this—about him—was unnerving.
I glanced at Emily. We exchanged a look, both shaking our heads in silent bewilderment.
He was so… patient with her. So effortlessly loving.
