I slapped my hand over his mouth, his pupils dilating as the corners of his eyes wrinkled with his grin.I wanted to stay mad.Really, I did.But he looked so unfairly handsome kneeling there, shirtless and sounding eerily sincere with his apology.
I sighed, taking my hand away.“You’re impossible.”
His wolfish grin widened.“So you’ll forgive me?”
“Only if you feed me,” I said, biting my lip.I always thought it was ridiculous, but I wanted to try it.No one had ever fed me besides Anna when I was young.
That made him laugh, the sound low and warm, making my stomach flip.I straightened up, keeping my back pressed against the headboard as he lifted the tray and scooped a blueberry between his fingers and held it to my lips.
“Say ah, darling.”
I rolled my eyes but opened my mouth, trying not to laugh as he fed me like some pampered queen.He alternated between bites of egg and blueberries, occasionally sneaking a kiss to my cheek and lips.
He was truly like a clingy dog.
Once we finished breakfast, he stood up like a man on a mission, and I didn’t like the look in his eyes.
“Come on,” he said, pulling me out of bed with far too much energy for someone who had also been up all night.“Let’s take a shower.You look like a mess.A sexy mess, I must say.”
“I wonder whose fault that is,” I said, letting him drag me to the ensuite bathroom.
Thankfully, he behaved and didn’t start anything.But I had to slap his chest when his fingers traveled south under the stream of warm shower.He pouted, apologizing and washing me like he was my butler.
We got dressed in robes because his clothes were in the washer, and I felt like giving him company.
I padded barefoot down the hallway, still sore from the night before, with my oversized robe brushing against my legs.Dylan followed looking infuriatingly handsome with damp hair that curled at the nape of his neck.
“Thought I’d give you a tour of my home studio,” I said, pushing open a white door at the end of the corridor.
The familiar smell of polished metal and warm solder greeted me.My little studio always felt like a sanctuary.It was tidy, with a few half-finished projects.I was nervous since I rarely allowed anyone in, but I wanted him to see my work.
Sunlight streamed through the single window, spreading across my workbench cluttered with jeweler’s pliers, tiny files, a blowtorch, and trays of glittering gemstones.
“Damn, Katie.”Dylan whistled.“This looks like the lair of a very glamorous, sexy supervillain who turns out to be a modern-day citizen who transmigrated into a novel.”
I chuckled, shaking my head at him.“You read a lot of fantasies.”I brushed past him to adjust a tray of earrings.“I wish that were the case, but I’m just your regular professional jeweler.”
I glanced over my shoulder and found him leaning against a wall, arms crossed over his chest, watching me with such softness that made my cheeks burn hot.I looked away, unable to handle the intensity of his gaze.
What are we?What are we doing?Why are you looking at my sketches, my workbench, my studio and me as if it was a dream?
And why do I like it so much that my heart burns with jealousy when you’re not looking?
His gaze averted from my sketches pinned to the corkboard to the rings lined up neatly in velvet boxes, and the microscope near the bench.
“You’ve really built all of this,” he whispered, speaking to himself.
“Of course I did.”I cleared my throat, my fingers tracing over the cool edge of a silver cufflink I had been polishing.
The silence stretched, heavy and intimate in the small room.Then, out of nowhere, Dylan said,
“I need to tell you something, Katie.”
Uh oh.I hated those words.
“What?”I asked, horrified.“You have a girlfriend?Last night was a prank or some research study?Or maybe you’re an alien and not Dylan?—”
“What?”He chuckled, stepping closer.“You’re the one who reads too many novels.Nothing crazy like that… it’s just that last night.It was also my first time.”
