Page 15 of The Mountain Man's Mail-Order Mafia Princess

Her gaze moved over my shirt. “You changed.”

“I usually do in the morning.”

“I meant the color.”

“I own more than one.”

“That’s reassuring.”

She sat and placed the shoes beside her chair. “I need to borrow your bathroom again before we leave.”

“You don’t need permission.”

“I know. I’m being considerate.”

“That’s also reassuring.”

She smiled.

I pushed a plate toward her.

She studied the toast, apple slices, and turkey. “Is this breakfast?”

“It’s what I have.”

“You warned me.”

“I did.”

She picked up a slice of apple. “I’m trying not to interpret the food shortage as a personal rejection.”

“The refrigerator didn’t know you were coming.”

“That’s a very practical response to an emotional statement.”

“It was also true.”

She bit into the apple and looked out the window. Morning light touched the gold at her wrist and picked out the dust still clinging to the toes of her shoes.

“I’m aware that I need clothes,” she said.

“I wasn’t going to say anything.”

“You looked at my shoes.”

“They’re beside my table.”

“You looked critically.”

“I looked at the dirt.”

Talia lifted one shoe and examined the narrow heel. “They’ve had a difficult twenty-four hours.”

“So have you.”

Her eyes met mine.

For once, she didn’t answer immediately.