My face betrays me; I look confused.
“It’s just potatoes and onions, princess, you’ll be fine.”
I nod and pick up my knife and fork, cutting into my food, trying not to focus on the blood rushing through my veins or the worried anticipation in my head. For the first few minutes, we eat in silence the way we normally do during work trips. The only differences are that neither of us are on our phones, I’m wearing lingerie under my dress, and we’re potentially going to have sex within the hour. Completely normal.
“You’re nervous,” he says, his voice is softer than usual. He sits back in his chair and takes his glass of red wine. Blood rushes to my face as my cheeks heat. “Hard to believe, I know,” I mumble, burying the stupid words in a sip of wine before meeting his gaze. “I normally beam confidence.”
“Was that meant to be sarcasm?” he asks, his lips ticking up a little more. “Youdonormally. Except when you’re flustered after sending me extremely explicit texts.”
I nearly choke on my food. “Please don’t bring those up. It was mortifying. One of those things that’ll haunt me at three in the morning when I’m trying to fall asleep for the rest of my life.”
“Oh, I’ll absolutely be bringing those up whenever I choose to,” he smirks, lifting his glass to his nose and sniffing it. “I fully intend to hold them over your head forever. They’re excellent material.”
I narrow my gaze at him. “And you callmethe brat.” He genuinely grins. Fully. Teeth out, predatory, but so,sofucking sexy. I nearly drop my wine at the sight of it. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen Anthony Voss smile like that. “In my defense,” he says smoothly, taking a sip of wine between his words, “you provoke me,April.”
April. Again. He knows what he’s doing. He knows every time. “Wrong way around.Youprovokeme.”
“Maybe,” he admits, shrugging, the fabric of his shirt pulling against his muscles.Christ, I really am ovulating.“But I enjoy the back and forth.”
The honesty lands like a warm hand on my back. It's unexpected, intimate, and disarming. I huff out a breath. “Doesn’t always seem like it.”
“Ah.” He sets his glass down, leaning forward to cut himself another bite. “Should I be more honest about that?‘Thank you, April, for the banter we just had, I quite enjoyed it’?”
I stare at him, blinking. Then I snort and cover my mouth. “You—you’re doing that thing again.”
His face scrunches. “What thing?”
“Trying to be funny. Or charming. I can’t figure out which one it is.” I tilt my head, pretending to study him, but my shoulders are still shaking with silent little laughs.“It’s unnerving. Are you feeling okay? Should I check your temperature? Or ask the staff to go get you a doctor?”
He scoffs in amusement, his brows raising as he stabs at his steak, his fork hanging in his hand. “I’ll have you know I’m hilarious.”
A bark of laughter leaves my lips, and I don’t try to cover it this time. “No. Absolutely not. You’ve madeonejoke in person with me, two months ago, about Karen.One.”
“It was a good one,” he grins.
“It was mediocre at best!”
He drags the meat off his fork with his teeth and sets it down. He watches me as he chews, his brows narrowed like he’s carefully choosing his next words. His eyes are bright with something I don’t think I’ve ever seen on him—playfulness. “You laughed.”
“I did not!”
“You did.” His smile sharpens, one finger points at me. “And you’re laughing now.”
My cheeks heat more, and I try to use my wine glass to cover them, but it’s useless. “Shut up,” I say through a small laugh. “Stop looking so smug.”
“Can’t help it. You make it easy.”
The banter unravels effortlessly as we eat. He teases me about my stubbornness, and I mock his control issues. He calls me argumentative, and I call him ancient. He laughs at that, actuallylaughs, and I feel something inside me loosen and expand in ways I wasn’t prepared for. He’s beinghimself. That version of him I’ve seen in small glimpses or caught behind his eyes. He’s showing it to me. God, I like it more than I should.
“Where did you go?” he asks as he finishes his wine. The plates are cleared and the breeze shifts as if the night itself is wrapping around us, drawing us closer. His gaze goes downto my breasts, to the hint of lingerie peeking out above my neckline. “This morning.”
My arm instinctively moves to cover my chest, and I can feel myself flush across my skin.
“Don’t,” he says. His voice is low and gravelly. He reaches across the table, wrapping his fingers around my wrist and gently pulling my hand away from my breasts. “Don’t do that. You don’t need to cover yourself.”
I nod slowly, holding his gaze, and swallow hard. The atmosphere is shifting rapidly. I can feel it. “Okay,” I say, but my heart still flutters. “Did you…not check the expenses?”
He grins softly. “No,” he says. “Wanted to be surprised. So surprise me.”
