Page 213 of Sweet Nightmare

One delicate eyebrow lifts. “Is that supposed to be an insult?”

“No, baby.”

The word slips out so naturally that I don’t even realize I’ve said it until I catch the tiny hitch in her breathing.

There.

Barely a second. Barely a reaction.

But I hear it.

Her face remains perfectly composed, but something flickers in those beautiful eyes before she tucks it away behind her usual Ice Queen mask.

Fuck.

I love catching those little moments she thinks she can hide from me.

They make me wonder what else she’s keeping beneath all that ice.

“You understand the shirt?” she asks.

“I do.”

“And?”

I glance at the bold lettering again, then look back at her.

“Pretty accurate warning, baby.”

Her pretty mouth twitches.

“Good.”

I notice she’s nervous. I see it in the way she keeps playing with the crown charm hanging from her necklace.

It’s cute as fuck.

I watch as her gaze travels over the table, taking in the steaming stew, the rice, the side dishes, and every little detail I’ve spent far too much time getting right.

“So, you cooked for me?”

Her question sounds casual, almost indifferent, but my heart booms inside my chest anyway.

Because she could’ve asked a hundred other things.

Instead, she wants to know if I did this for her.

I hold her gaze.

“I did.”

She hesitates, then looks suspiciously down at the food.

“I didn’t poison it.”

Her gaze finds me again. “I wasn’t thinking that.”

“You were.”