Page 15 of Twins for the Enemy

A plate with a stuffed pepper on it, the melted cheese turning crisp over the edges.

A small bowl of lemon-colored risotto.

A salad with a mix of almonds, bits of bacon, feta, and berries.

With the feast, a glass of water, and a few dishes I don’t recognize. If this is an offering to me, I am more than satisfied.

"Your steak is cooked medium well," Kieran says. "The chef also made sure the truffle butter's fresh."

"Do you eat like this every night?" I ask, my mouth watering.

"No. I tell the cook what I want, and he cooks it," he says. "I wanted to be sure you'd want something here, so I asked for a variety of dishes."

He has no idea how hungry I am. I'd eat fried ants at this point.

“I didn’t know you were capable of caring,” I say.

He looks at me, impassive. “I knew there was a good chance you’d refuse to eat, so I adjusted the variables to ensure our children were taken care of.”

I should have known he’d claim it was because he’d read me so easily. I swallow the saliva gathering in my mouth. I don't want to appear too eager. I'll wait until he eats.

But as he sits down, I realize there is no plate for him.

"You're not eating?" I ask.

"No."

He's being an asshole, again. And I’m almost too hungry to care.

I can hold out for a second longer.

Two seconds longer.

Three seconds—

I snatch up one of the dinner rolls, biting into it so quickly that my teeth clash against each other. But the pain doesn't register because the roll melts in my mouth, the salt in the butter triggering shock and comfort to my taste buds. Before I can register it, I've finished the roll and started on another one.

Kieran stretches out in the chair, all relaxed dominance, his fingers tapping against his thigh while he studies me. I don't notice how intensely he's observing me until after I've cut into the steak and finished two succulent bites.

Why?

Is he mocking the way I'm eating like some kind of starved animal?

Is he waiting for some kind of poison to knock me out?

Is he trying to intimidate me?

Well, I'm not going to let him unnerve me.

I lean forward to blatantly stare back at him, slowly continuing to sneak food in without breaking eye contact. He doesn't flinch or back down. I'd gotten used to seeing his eyes as a dark void, but being this close, I don't see the void or the warmth I saw the night he took my virginity. The dark circle around his iris seems to fade into a shade of mahogany brown, but like the wood, darker lines of brown mix with the lighter shade, creating a vibrancy I've never noticed in anyone else.

The spoon hits my mouth a little too low. Some of the risotto spills on my lap.

"Oh, crap," I mutter, dropping the spoon on my plate. I search for a napkin, but I can't see any past all of the food. Kieran plucks one from behind the dinner rolls. I snatch it out of his hand. If he touches me right now,I may lose all sense of self-respect. I quickly wipe the risotto off my pants.

"It looks like you'll have to change into the clothes I gave you sooner than later," he says. "It looks like you changed your mind about eating too."

"It's fine," I mumble. "I'd have eaten any kind of food the same way."

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