Page 209 of Reign

She should feel the scene this morning. She should remember it.

She looks around the kitchen without stopping on me.

That gets my attention.

She doesn’t speak. She doesn’t make eye contact. She walks straight to the freezer.

“Good morning, Elena.”

Her hand pauses on the handle.

“Morning, Luciano.”

Her voice is polite and flat. I dislike it immediately.

She opens the freezer.

“I have them.”

She stills. Then she shuts the freezer door and turns around.

Her eyes land on the bowl in front of me.

For the first time since she entered the kitchen, she looks at something close to me.

Still not at me.

I tap my thigh.

Her eyes flick to mine, then drop to my leg.

She walks over slowly, suspicion in every step.

“Thank you,” she says, reaching for the bowl.

I catch her hand before she can take it.

Her eyes snap to my fingers around hers. “What?”

There’s the attitude.

Better.

The attitude I know what to do with. The polite little stranger who walked into my kitchen, I do not.

I don’t want distance from her this morning. I don’t want that flat, polite voice either. Last night, she shook apart in my bed and let me see every vulnerable, messy piece of her. This morning, she’s acting like we’re two acquaintances discussing the weather.

I tap my thigh.

She heads for the chair beside me.

“Wrong seat, princesa.”

She stops. “Excuse me?”

I tap my thigh again. “Here.”

Her eyes narrow. “Why?”