Page 22 of Taken By the Crab King of Atlantis

A waiter arrives and hands us both menus, saving me from my inability to small talk. All that’s been going through my head for decades has been the running of Atlantis.

There are three options for set menus for the evening. Her face is smooth as she studies the pages — any trace of the unease she had in my office this morning is gone. But her spine is straight, and her eyes are guarded when she looks at me, despite her smile.

Would she fall apart under my hands if we were alone? Under my tongue? “Have you chosen?” I say aloud, breaking my own illicit train of thought.

“The soup and grilled salmon, please,” she says to both me and the waiter.

When he’s gone, we lapse into silence. “You study accounting?” The question bursts out of me with slight desperation. My gaze traces the line of her neck, the curve of her breasts.

“And you run a city,” she says wryly, a smile playing on her lips.

I smile back, noting we’ve both drunk half of our glasses of wine in a short span of time. “What do you like about your studies?”

“The structure and order of it.”

“I understand the desire for order.” Determined to hold back silence, I add “Your sister, what does she study?”

Her smile fades, and I internally kick myself. “She’s more creative than I am.” She pauses, as if considering. “And wilder.”

I wish she would say more, but we’re interrupted by the entrees arriving. It’s a cold vegetable soup, not to everyone’s taste. My shoulders tighten as she takes her first sip. I’m gratified by her widening eyes and the rapid movement of her spoon.

When silence stretches, I consider what other disastrously dull thing I might raise, but Yen saves me the task. “Do you have brothers and sisters?”

“Of a sort. We come from the same place and we return to the same place, but while we are in this world, we only interact sometimes.”

“Where is the place you come from?”

“That is harder to answer. Some might call it heaven. But my experience of it is nothingness. Like a deep sleep, with only a dim awareness of where we are.”

“Is that frightening?”

“Honestly, it feels like a relaxing alternative at times.” I cast my gaze into the other room briefly. People catch my eye, unashamedly watching our table.

“It’s a pity you don’t know your siblings more. Leadership must be lonely enough, let alone being a different sort of being.” It’s her turn to flush.

“I believe the term is god.” A smile tugs at my mouth. “I was the only one of my siblings who stayed in this world for most of the past 200 years. My eldest brother visited me briefly last week.”

“How was he?”

“Irritating.”

She laughs, but her eyes quickly turn sad. “I don’t know what I would do without my sister.” Her gaze shifts away into her wine.

“I hope our arrangement gives you what you need to help her.”

Her eyes fly up to mine. “You know about that?”

“It was in your profile,” I say carefully. I'm not lying, but the Zodiac Association did a deeper dive and confirmed it. At what point will my extensive dive into her past make her uncomfortable?

She looks at me closely, considering. I look away first. “Did you like the soup?” Her bowl is almost empty, as is our wine.

“I loved it. It’s one of the best I’ve ever tasted. I didn’t mean to eat so fast.” She apologizes, but her eyes stay on me now, testing, watching. My stomach flutters, lust stirring to life under her inspection.

“It is a genuine compliment that you loved the meal. Are you ready for the main?” She nods, and a waiter takes our plates away and refreshes our wine.

Her eyebrows raise when I stand and take off my jacket, throwing it over the back of my chair while a sizzling plate and prep table on wheels is rolled up to our table. I roll up my sleeves and catch her gaze flitting across my chest and arms, a look of appreciation in her eyes as she takes in my physique.

My chest swells and makes me bold. “As our honored guest this evening, it is customary for the best chef in Atlantis to prepare your meal, and as a god, I am obviously the best chef in Atlantis.”