Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 95196 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95196 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
To my surprise, he shuffled over and perched in a seat behind the counter. Behind him, the guards exited the kitchen, leaving us alone. Though I suspected they remained mere steps beyond the door, listening.
“Why did you insist on preparing our first dinner, then pay someone else to cook it and claim you did all the work?” He flicked his tongue over an incisor. “Yes, I know the truth. Always have, always will.”
Oh dang. We’d entered unfamiliar territory–for me–and I was too tired to bluff my way through. “We aren’t discussing anything serious tonight.”
He arched a brow. “We are to sit in silence then?”
Hardly. Time to bring out the charm! “The day after the wedding, you mentioned my other accents. Do you have a favorite?”
“You enacted entire personas simply to annoy me. So no, I have no favorite form of torture.”
His dry tone took the sting out of his words. Now I knew how Isobel garnered his unbelief for everything I did and said, at least. As I rolled and heated the tortillas, then packed the burritos, lining them in a pan, I tossed a smile over my shoulder. “Give me one compliment. Just one. And mean it.”
He opened his mouth. Closed it. Traced a finger around the rim of his glass. Twisted his signet ring. Finally he said, “I should do this, why?”
“Because I won’t let you taste my food if you don’t. Trust me, Mr. Bruce, you want to taste my food. Otherwise, you’ll forever wonder about the deliciousness.”
His chin jutted. “What is it you hope this compliment will accomplish?”
“Maybe it’ll prove we don’t have to be at odds every minute of every day. Maybe it’ll do nothing. How can we know unless we try?” I slid the full pan in the oven, set a timer and faced him, anchoring a hand on my hip. “The choice is yours. Is the prize worth the payment?”
Rubbing two fingers over his stubbly jaw, he ran his gaze over me. Slowly. “Verra well. I’ll pay up.”
Tingles showered me. Questions rushed through my mind. Was Callen interested in Isobel for more than what she represented? He must be. Who could force a man like him to do anything he didn’t secretly wish to do? I mean, think about it. Why else would a fearsome king wed someone he supposedly hated?
Well. He might be attracted to her, greatly, but I suspected he liked my version of her better.
I turned up the charm. “By the way, there’s fine print and hidden fees in our bargain, so make sure your compliment is a good one. That means nothing about my appearance. You gotta delve deep and praise the amazing woman within. And no, this isn’t the greatest time to remind me how awful I’ve been.”
“The woman within, hmm.” His voice dipped, and his eyelids hooded. A long moment passed, each tenser and sweeter than the last. Then, “You are surprisingly amusing at times, and it makes me not as eager to escape your presence. I don’t like it, but I also donna wish for it to end.”
Heartbeat, heartbeat, heartbeat.
I stood stunned. I had detected humor from him before. And I was the one who’d sparked it. Me. Elle. Err, Elizabeth. A smile spread. “That’s an honest commendation, and I’ll take it. Though I’m not sure what you find so amusing. I’m a very serious person.”
“Very serious,” he echoed, mimicking my accent. His attention dropped to my mouth. In an instant, his mask vanished, revealing the wildest, fiercest, most desperate longing I’d ever beheld. More than I’d glimpsed at the party!
My smile fell, all sense of ease evaporating. Like called to like, longing rising in me, as well. I wanted…I needed… “Callen?”
The moment I spoke, the atmosphere charged, the air suddenly electric. Then his mask reappeared, and everything returned to normal. Everything but me. I fanned my over-hot cheeks. What just happened?
“You are also enchanting upon occasion,” he said, his husky timbre a delightful surprise. “Some might say entrancing. And it’s effortless.”
Effortlessly entrancing and enchanting? Had those two descriptions seriously come from Callen Bruce, directed at Elizabeth Darcy, the woman inside the body? “I don’t know what to say.”
A scowl darkened his features. Did he regret admitting so much? “Your turn.” He drummed his fingers against the countertop. “Compliment me, or I won’t tell you what I think of your food.”
Oh, man. I very much wanted to hear his opinion of my food. “Using my own threats against me.” I tsked.
“Admit it, you’re impressed.”
True. “I am. I’m also game. Are you ready?” Gaze locked with his, I shuffled closer to lean into the counter, brace my elbows on the surface, and rest my chin on my raised palms. “You are surprisingly considerate and sometimes adorably witty. It makes me want to spend more time with you.”
His scowl vanished. My pulse jumped.