Rose was sure that Roman got off on her blushes and her nervous squirming. She could feel his gaze linger on her every now and then. She could feel the weight of all the comments nobody dared to voice out. She could almost hear the questions, both daring and cautious, that burnt the lips of his men.
As it turned out, Flora had been teasing her — thankfully — for the kitchen had been fully ready. They had been prepared to have one more mouth to feed than usual.
Rose’s gaze was drawn to the croissant, and to the jam, as she wondered how it would taste on her tongue.
“Clear the strawberry jam,” Roman commanded in a tone that allowed room for no argument.
“It’s my favorite…” Enzo pursed his lips as he muttered.
The only reason Rose could hear him was because he was sitting next to her.
Roman raised an eyebrow, and his gaze went from sharp to deadly, as he let out in his most blasé tone of voice, “Do you wish to eat that fork, Enzo?”
The man visibly shuddered and shook his head negatively.
