“Desperate?” I repeated with a wry look.
“I believe I understand now,” he continued.
“Understand what exactly?” I asked, my curiosity outweighing any sense of what was good for me.
“You weren’t defiant, you were merely under-caffeinated and an addict in need of her sugar fix,” he said with a grin, and despite how sexy it made him look, I managed to suppress my usual staring like some sex starved manic and scoffed instead.
I then argued,
“I am not a sugar addict.”
His gaze dropped pointedly to the small mountain of empty packets accumulating beside my cup. I hesitated, one final unopened packet between my fingers.
He raised a brow in silent challenge when I slowly set it down instead. That did it, as the next thing I knew, he was laughing. And not the restrained, knowing exhale I’d heard before. Nor the cool amusement he wielded like a weapon. No, this was different. It was warmer and unguarded. A sound that caught me completely off balance. But it was more than that, of course. It was the fact that his entire face transformed when he laughed. That overlord essence of his now softening around the edges into something almost boyish. And fuck me, if I thought he had been handsome before, dangerously so, well now this…this was unfair.
Which was why I naturally found myself staring again.
“What?” he asked, his gaze catching the lustful expression I hadn’t managed to hide.
So, I shook my head faintly and muttered,
“It’s not fair.” My gaze purposely remained on my coffee that I was still stirring. Because, admittedly, there was still enough sugar at the bottom that refused to dissolve.
His brows drew together as he pushed for more.
“What’s not fair?”
I released a sigh and blurted out before I could stop myself,
“That someone as dangerous as you gets to look like that.”
Silence.
Then came the faintest flush that crept along his high cheekbones, dusting his porcelain skin with the palest of pinks.
He looked almost…uncertain.
“I assure you, it has caused me no particular advantage,” he replied carefully, and I stared at him in obvious disbelief.
“You cannot be serious,” I stated, and his mouth curved slightly because if it.
“I know I am not an ogre, if that’s what you mean,” he teased, and I rolled my eyes, muttering,
“So, this is the part where you downplay it.”
He inclined his head with careless ease, as though being that dangerously beautiful required no effort at all.
“Well, I assume there’s a harem of gorgeous witches somewhere on standby just in case you require admiration,” I muttered under my breath as I reached for my cup.
His eyes flashed with genuine amusement before he replied smoothly,
“Far from it, I assure you.”
I glanced at him over the rim of my cup.
“Once again, that sounds suspiciously modest.”
“It is factual,” he replied, before adding over the rim of his own cup,
