“So then,” I said slowly, arms folding across my chest, “why invite me here at all? If you didn’t want food.” I almost whispered the last part.
Rowan’s fingers slid to his collar. He loosened the top button of his shirt, exposing a sliver of skin. It was a small gesture, but it made the room suddenly hotter.
“Didn’t you say,” he murmured, “that you wanted me to try something newly learned?” My eyes widened, and I could feel my face turning red. “If I refused,” he continued smoothly, “wouldn’t that dismiss your effort?”
I stiffened. “I was talking about dishes,” I snapped. “Cooking. That’s it. Don’t twist my words.”
His smirk widened, infuriatingly calm. “Mm.” The sound alone burned under my skin. I spun toward the door. “Forget it. I’m leaving.” I announced, maybe this was a
