Page 23 of Princesses & Pastries
"We make them from the peel of the oranges we get from Someil," I say. "We're free to use them though, I don't think they get used very much."
"Good, because a little bit of citrus peel really adds to the pain aux raisins."
"You've always said the advantage of us baking together is that you get to use whatever ingredients you want to."
"Pretty much," he agrees. "I've definitely missed that," he admits as he rolls out the pastry.
"Have you not done any extra baking?"
"Of course. But I've had to buy the ingredients rather than the kitchen supplying them," he says. "It's much easier here."
"There's got to be some reason you want to come back."
He pauses what he's doing and looks right at me. "I have lots of reasons to want to come back. Getting access to more ingredients to experiment with is nowhere near my most important reason to want to be in Falhaven."
"What is your most important reason?" I almost surprise myself by realising that I know what I want him to say.
A strange silence builds between the two of us until he looks down at the dough.
I'm not sure what to make of it. I'm not normally good at reading people, but I feel like I can with Nate sometimes. But not tonight. Maybe I should get us back onto a safer topic of conversation.
I clear my throat. "Do we put the custard on now?"
He looks up, surprise on his face. "What?"
"The custard," I say, gesturing to the bowl by his arm. "Is that what we're supposed to do next?"
He nods and picks up the bowl, handing it over to me. I take it from him and start brushing it over the dough, not going too heavy with it. The dried fruit follows, dotting the dough and briefly distracting me from the confused feelings within me about the conversation we're abandoning. I want him to say that I'm the reason he wants to be in Falhaven.
Chapter 11
Nate rolls the pain aux raisin dough into a tight log and starts cutting it into rounds. Realising that I need to do something, I put rounds onto the tray, and they're soon sitting on the side, replacing the croissants that have now gone out to the ice house to rest before baking. At least that means they're nearly ready, because I'm anxious to see how they've turned out and if they're going to be better than the ones I made myself. Though I think I know the answer to that already.
Ember rouses as Nate sets a bowl of meat scraps in front of her. She raises her head, and barely waits for him to step back before setting them on fire.
"I'll make her like me yet," Nate says.
I laugh. "She will," I promise. "I like you, so why wouldn't she?"
"I suspect your taste in people is different to Ember's," he points out.
"Not really. She likes people who give her food and scratches behind her horns."
Nate's rich chuckle is music to my ears. "Do you want scratching behind your horns?"
"I don't have any horns," I point out.
Amusement dances in his eyes. "You have the spot behind them, though."
"I have no idea where you mean."
He steps towards me, so close that I can feel the warmth radiating from him. He reaches a hand towards my face, but then pauses. "May I?"
I nod without even thinking about it.
Slowly, Nate reaches out and brushes his fingers through my hair and to a spot behind my ear. "This is where the spot behind your horns would be," he whispers, his voice catching in his throat.
I swallow hard. "I don't think anyone has ever touched me there," I whisper, reaching up to put my hand over his so that he doesn't think of pulling away.
