Page 24

Aurora finally turns to look at me for the first time since I arrived.

“Why did you have to do that?” she asks, voice sharp. “That was rude.”

“If you had answered my question, maybe I wouldn’t have,” I reply evenly. “What’s going on with you, Aurora? Why do you have dark circles under your eyes?”

She winces and looks away.

“Have you even been eating?” I press. “Did you have breakfast?”

“My diet is none of your business,” she snaps.

I reach out, gently but firmly catching her jaw and turning her face back to me. “That’s where you’re wrong, sunshine. You and everything about you is my fucking business.”

Her eyes flash with defiance, but I don’t let go. “Why haven’t you been eating?”

A bitter smile touches her lips. “Perhaps because I’m hoping that with any luck, I’ll die from starvation before the wedding day and deliver you a corpse.”

I stare at her for a long moment, then say quietly, “Planning to die on me, Sunshine?”

“Better than being forced to marry you.”

I smirk. “Not even death can separate us. I would go to the jaws of hell, to the jaws of death itself, and pull you back. There is no separation for us.”

There is no version of this world..." I say quietly, "where you and I aren't together."

She looks at me as if seeing me for the first time.

I release her face and straighten. “Get up,” I tell her. “We’re going to eat.”

“I’m not hungry.”

The look I give her makes it very clear I wasn’t asking. She stands up with a grumble. “You’re such a taskmaster.”

A small smile tugs at my lips as I lead her out. “I've been called worse.”

She grumbles something under her breath that I'm fairly certain isn't a compliment as she follows me out of the room.

We head outside and I open the car door for her. Once she’s inside, I watch her put on her seatbelt before I get in and drive us to one of my favorite restaurants in the city.

A maître d' is already waiting as I hand over the keys to the valet.

Inside, we are shown to an elevator that brings us up to a private table with a sweeping view of the city.

Once we are seated, I look at her across the table. “What do you want to eat?”

She crosses her arms. “Nothing. I already told you I’m not hungry.”

I settle back in my chair, my attention never leaving her.

She avoids my gaze, pretending to study the menu she's already made it abundantly clear she has no intention of ordering from.

I could order for her. Hell, I could probably make her eat if I wanted to. But for some reason, I don't. Seeing her like this does something unpleasant to my chest. And I don't like it. Not one fucking bit.

So instead of forcing the issue, I decide to try something different. "What would it take?"

She looks up. "What?"

"What would it take for you to eat?"