Page 97 of Reign

She stops two chairs away from me.

Of course she does.

Elena sets down her plate and pulls out the chair. “There. Now I don’t have to develop a theater voice.”

I look at the remaining distance. “Halfway counts as closer?”

Her hand stills on the chair. “This is closer.”

“I’m being specific now.”

I lift two fingers and indicate the chair at my right. “Here.”

Her gaze moves from my face to my hand.

The pause lasts a second.

Then she picks up her plate again.

“Fine,” she says, relocating for the second time. “Ridiculous.”

She sits at my right and sets her plate down with more force than necessary.

“I came down here because your dining room is acoustically unreasonable. Not because I wanted to be closer to you.”

“Naturally.”

I lower my hand, and her gaze follows before she catches herself.

“The table is still obnoxious,” she adds.

“And yet?”

“Still beautiful.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Her gaze flicks to mine.

A mistake.

A small one.

But I see the exact second she realizes how close I am.

Within reach. Close enough that I can see the tiny shadow beneath her lashes, the gloss on her mouth, the pulse working at the side of her throat.

Close enough that if I said her name softly, it would touch her.

I pick up my knife.

“Eat,” I say.

Her eyebrows rise. “Excuse me?”

“You said you weren’t hungry, but you haven’t stopped looking at the plate.”

“That doesn’t mean I’m hungry.”