Page 37 of King of Obsession

“Should we test that?” The glint of a challenge sparkles more than the crystal vases overflowing with decadent white flower bouquets in the ballroom.

I smile under my breath. There would never be a dull moment with her.

“I’ll make more. But you have to think about our offspring. Let’s not leave them scraps just because Mommy has a shopping addiction.”

I thought the subject would scare her, but she surprises me once again when she steeples her fingers in front of her. A serious expression slides over her face as if readying herself for a negotiation.

“How many children do you want?”

I jerk my chin at her. “How many would you be willing to give me?”

“Damn, you’re a terrific negotiator,” she sighs and leans back. “I’ve never thought about anything like this before…”

Waving my hand in the air, I gesture for her to continue. “It’s just a fantasy of mine, right? So, indulge me.”

Silence follows as we both sip from our wine glasses. The first course arrives, foie gras with fig jam on a toast that melts on the tongue.

As she dabs with the linen napkin the corners of her lips, she taps her chin, appearing in deep thought. I like her more in her element than always posing as someone else. Plus, I don’t give a flying fuck about etiquette.

“Two. Boy and a girl.”

“Works for me.”

Her brows furrow as she waves a hand through the air. “We wouldn’t live in the city. I don’t like the constant buzz.”

“You’ll love the compound then.”

“Where your sister and mother live?” she asks, her tone laced with worry.

“Yes.”

She lets out a long sigh threaded with dejection. “They won’t like me.”

“Why do you think that?”

She sends me an intent look, raising her arms in the air, whisper snarling, “I’ve tried to kill you.”

“They don’t have to know everything. It made me hot, and I doubt they want to know that either.”

She laughs so wholeheartedly; her entire face radiates. “You’re unsalvageable.”

True. I am irredeemably and irrefutably mad about this woman in her entirety. Everything about her has been made to be claimed and treasured by me.

“Anything else?” I ask, urging her to continue.

“No pets. I hate dogs. Especially a Rottweiler. I swear you never know what they think.”

“Are you afraid of dogs?” Incredulity rings in my voice, finding it quite endearing.

“They’re unpredictable,” she exhales loudly, as if that should be common knowledge.

“So are you, and yet I am willing to keep you.”

She arches a brow, trying and failing to keep her grin at bay. “At your own risk.”

It’s my time to burst into laughter.

As the night progresses, I can’t stop thinking I like how we’re talking, planning, teasing. It feels like the most natural thing in the world, something I’ve never experienced before and know I will never experience again. Only her. Only with her.

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