Page 40 of Reign

Her breath catches.

“I wasn’t aware you were pretending.”

I let the smile come.

Her eyes drop to my mouth as though she earned it.

Perhaps she did.

“Is that supposed to scare me?”

“Why would that scare you?”

“Because you’re acting like you know me.”

Her eyes come back to mine. The room thins around her.

Music, glass, laughter, my sister somewhere beneath a crown of candlelight and happiness. All of it remains, but none of it holds my attention.

Only Elena.

The way she watches me like she’s daring me to get closer.

The way she pretends she won’t like it if I do.

Complications are easiest to avoid before they acquire a face.

This one has brown eyes, a sharp mouth, and the nerve to return after nearly walking away.

Elena feels like the kind of woman who becomes dangerous when a man gives her time.

Worse, she feels like the kind who would make me enjoy the complication.

So I reach past her for a fresh, warm empanada from the back tray instead of walking away.

“This one,” I say, placing it on the small plate beside her pastry. “If you’re determined to judge my taste.”

Her gaze drops to the plate, then lifts to me.

“You’re selecting my appetizers now?”

“I’m preventing a poor decision.”

“How noble.”

“I’m known for my generosity.”

“Doubtful.”

The answer comes too quickly. Too certain.

I tilt my head. “You don’t know me.”

Her eyes move over my face, and for one second, the playfulness fades into something quieter.

“No,” she says. “But I think men like you are usually known for other things.”

I hold her stare.