I felt the corner of my lip twitch up at the way he phrased the question. It was a far cry from when I had found him brooding by the fireplace, and he had threatened to chain me up and spoil me until I rot.
“What has gotten into you?” I asked, my voice coming out quieter than I intended. There was a pregnant pause and a heaviness that built between us when, finally, he shrugged.
“I’m trying to find some semblance of balance with you,” he said, and for what felt like the thousandth time that morning, he glanced at my thighs, his gaze burning into the slowly healing cuts beneath the leather of my pants. “I’m never going to be… easy on you,” he murmured, “but I don’t want to be so hard on you that you feel the need to escape. I want you here with me.” His Adam’s apple bobbed, and his voice became rough with an emotion I couldn’t place. “I want you towantto be here with me.”
His admission shocked me. It was the first time he had given me any indication that he cared about what I wanted at all. He absorbed the surprise that I was sure had splashed across my face, and he sighed. “I’m fucking in love with you, Lilith. I want you to remember that you love me too. I don’t know how to do that, but I’m hoping you’ll let me try.”
I felt my mouth open and close as I struggled to find the words to respond. He gave me a sad smile and ran his thumb delicately over my bottom lip.
“Don’t look so shocked, deathtrap. I can be nice if I want to be.”
“Can you?” I finally whispered, and he gave me one slow nod.
“If you’ll let me.”
“Okay. Show me,” I challenged, and he rewarded me with a dazzling smile, lacing his fingers through mine.
“First, let’s get you something to read that’s not a dusty old history book.” He smirked and led me away to the library.
Ramel tookme to a section of a library filled with romance novels and slid his hands over my hips as we perused the shelves.
“Make sure you pick the smuttiest one.” He smirked against my ear from behind, and my cheeks flushed as he pulled one off the shelf in front of us. “This one looks good; the back says it’s about a mercenary who hunts and stalks a man who runs a funeral home. Instead of killing him, they fall in love, and they have a bunch of kinky sex.”
“I’m not reading that!” I exclaimed nervously, and he turned me around to face him, grinning like an imp.
“And why not? Can’t be any more depraved than our story.” He smirked, and I rolled my eyes, still blushing.
“You’re right about that.”
After he misted some of the most taboo romance novels I had ever laid my eyes on back to our room, he took me to the kitchens. They were bustling with activity. Demons were working in perfect, albeiturgent,harmony. They responded in sync to the orders of the head chef, getting things ready for the night’s festivities.
“I feel like we’re intruding,” I whispered to Ramel, looking around anxiously. The chefs reminded me of soldiers, receiving their orders and responding in perfect choreography. Everything was spotless and pristine; no one was smiling, and each face was schooled into an expression of intense focus.
I felt like a fish out of water, like I didn’t belong.
“Don’t be ridiculous. This is your kitchen,yourhouse. They are here because ofyou,” Ramel assured me, planting a gentle kiss on my temple from behind.
“Besides, we won’t be in their way. There’s a small prep kitchen back here we can use.” He led me through the lines and pushed past a pair of industrial swinging doors to reveal a small space that had a prep area, a stove and oven combo, as well as a sink and a full walk-in fridge and freezer.
On the stainless-steel prep counter, I noticed a neat pile of raw ingredients. There was a selection of different proteins, grains, spices, and condiments. I felt like I was a contestant on a cooking show for a minute, and my entire body lit up with excitement.
“I don’t know shit about cooking,” Ramel said, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “So I didn’t know what you would need. I just told the chef to set you up with enough options so that you could make whatever you wanted. If there’s something you need that’s not here, I can get it for you.”
“You want me to cook?” I asked, turning to stare at him skeptically. He gave me a hesitant smile, looking slightly unsure of himself for a minute.
“I thought you might like to. You haven’t had a chance since you… since I…” He cleared his throat, clearly unsure how to refer to the fact that he had abducted me and held me captive against my will for the past several weeks. He gestured to my thighs, and that pained look swam across his face again. “Maybe it’ll help, I don’t know. Clear your head.”
I stared at him, absolutely dumbfounded. This was actuallysweetandthoughtful.
“Did you have a brain transplant?” I asked in disbelief, and his expression soured. I immediately regretted my words as the vulnerable look melted off his face, and he scoffed.
“Forget it. It was stupid,” he grumbled, turning to leave. I quickly grabbed his arm and tugged him back toward me. To my surprise, he let me. I looked up at him and saw a small, hesitant flicker of hope flash in his eyes before he seemed to brace himself for whatever it was I was going to say.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”
He searched my face, and I gave him a gentle smile, letting him see how much this small gesture meant to me. “This is amazing. Thank you.”
He stayed silent for a long beat before allowing himself to smile back at me.
