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“I’ll see you two later,” Tabitha said, waving and grabbing a set of keys from a dish on the counter. She gave me a sympathetic look. “Good luck.”
“What does that mean?” I demanded.
Kael moved away from the stove, drawing my attention back to him with a slow, predatory advance. “Eyes on me.”
My heart thumped, and I resisted the urge to actually clutch it. He did that on purpose. Don’t give him the satisfaction of a reaction. But… that was hot. Fuck me. “Or what?”
“Or you’ll fail your own plan before you start.” Kael pulled a red, retractable tip marker from his back pocket and spun it around his finger before holding it up for me to see.
“Ooh, fancy,” I murmured with a mocking smile.
“That,” Kael said with a severe look my way as he reached me, “is exactly what I mean. All that sass is going to give us both away. The minute you look anything but timid when we are with your parents, you will blow our cover to smithereens.”
I sucked my lips in. Oh. Untucking them again, I said, “I will control the spunk. Scout’s honor.”
“Prove it.”
My gaze wavered to the side with uncertainty. “What?”
Kael closed what was left of the distance between us, and not giving one fuck about my personal space, braced his hands against the granite island, bracketing my body on either side. It brought his thigh between my knees and his eucalyptus scent in the air around us. I leaned all the way back, pressing my back into the counter, but Kael followed, bringing his nose an inch from mine. “Show me how submissive you are, Mattie.”
I might as well have been in deep space for all the oxygen I could draw. I stared at him in mute, breathless surprise. “Uh,” I squeezed out.
“Show me how meek you can be,” Kael challenged softly, and his eyes dropped to my lips before returning to my eyes.
If he wanted me dazed and incoherent, then his plan was definitely working. His thigh between my knees was warm and solid, and I suddenly had the image of me sliding over it and wrapping my arms around his neck. Wait, focus. He’s doing a thing right now, Mattie. I couldn’t seem to string together what his words meant. And then I realized he wanted me to fight back so he could make a demonstration. He wanted me to lash out and prove him right.
What a prick.
Defiantly, I held his gaze for a long, silent moment, and then dropped my lashes and looked down at his chest. “Sure.”
His arms flexed. “That was fast.”
I fought a smile. “Were you hoping for a reason to punish me?”
Kael cupped my jaw and tilted my gaze back to his. His eyelids had cinched together, but a glint of humor shone in his glacial eyes. “Very funny.”
I shrugged innocently. “Or were you hoping I’d get on my knees?”
He hesitated like a deer caught in the headlights. But then the flash of whatever had halted his brain functions was gone, and he straightened away from me. “I would prefer you to practice.” Holding up the red marker again, he clicked it, and the red felt tip popped out. “Lesson one, ignoring what annoys you. Every time you make a face, glare, or otherwise seem sarcastic, you’ll get a mark on your wrist.”
I held up my wrist between us, and my eyebrows lifted. “That’s it? That’s your dastardly training method?”
“Trust me,” Kael said darkly, “if you were really my operative, it would not be that lenient. But you’re—” He paused, swallowing, like the words had gotten stuck in his throat. His mouth twitched to the side, and he took a step back. “Well, you’re you.”
“Fascinating,” I said honestly, trying to peer at his expression. What the hell did that mean? “And what, pray tell, are you planning to do to bring out all this venomous sass?”
Kael gave me a knowing look before returning to the stove to stir the noodles. “Nothing I don’t already do.”
“Which is?” I released a quiet breath, but my heart still pattered away in my chest, too fast and obnoxiously loud. Kael being close to me was not good for my mask of indifference.
“Boss you around. Come finish making this.” Kael stood aside after stirring it, taking a seat on the same stool Tabitha had been on. He leaned his forearm on the island and watched me.
“I don’t know how to cook,” I replied blandly.
Kael stared, waiting.
Immediately irritated that he was making me cook—I hated cooking—I tamped down an eye roll and slid off my seat. I crossed the short distance to the pan and picked up the wooden spoon so I could poke at the pink shrimp. What was this meant to accomplish, anyway? He would needle me a few times, I would prove that I do have a poker face, and he’d get dinner in the process? After a few seconds, I peeked over my shoulder at him. Kael’s eyebrows twitched up, and he made a turning motion with his finger.
