He stretched his arm along the back of the couch, his fingers almost grazing my hair. I pressed my lips together, struggling to think of something to say, before blurting out, “I ordered dinner.”
Ezekiel smiled, exuding effortless composure.
“I appreciate that,” he said with a soft chuckle.
“Though I’ve been thinking... maybe I should hire a maid.”
“What?” I snapped, my voice sharp with surprise. I turned to him, my nervousness briefly replaced by indignation.
“Why a maid?”
“It’s just that I come home late, and you’re here all alone,” he murmured.
I narrowed my eyes slightly, cutting him off. “It’s not a problem,” I said firmly. “I’m not bored, and if you’re worried about safety, the guards are here.”
“But—” he began, his tone laced with hesitation.
Before he could continue, I
