I regretted the last spoonful of chocolate tart the second I swallowed it.
Why? Because Kael was looking at me like he was planning dessert round two—and not the edible kind.
I shifted in my seat, trying to look casual, like my heart wasn't attempting another sprint in my chest. But he wouldn't stop watching me. Those damn green eyes. Sharp, quiet, curious. Like he was studying me under a microscope.
I couldn't take it anymore.
"I'll, uh… clear the table," I muttered, pushing back my chair before I could implode.
Kael raised a brow, lounging in his chair like he was born to do nothing but be rich and relaxed. "The chef will handle it."
"Well, I want to help," I insisted, already stacking two plates, hoping the clatter would distract from the heat crawling up my neck.
"You're full," he said smoothly. "Sit. I'll make tea."
I blinked. "Why the hell would you make tea?"
