Page 31 of Heat & Deceit
He chuckles under his breath. “Ouch. No, the rest of my pack isn’t nearly as bad as me.” Plucking another roll from the platter, he mixes some of the wasabi paste into the soy sauce and dredges the edge of his roll through it. He catches me staring and pushes the little dish toward me. “Try it.”
“I’m scared,” I admit. I’m a wimp about spicy food, and wasabi is supposed to be pretty hot.
“You’ll be okay. Try it.”
“Don’t tell me what to do,” I grumble, tentatively dipping a roll into the mixture, barely coating it with the spicy sauce.
“Sorry.” He glances down and bites his lip. “If you want, you should try it.”
A smile tugs at the corners of my mouth. He’s so chastised. I kind of love it. Unlike Matthew, this alpha actually seems to feel bad about telling me what to do. It makes it a little hard to be mad at him. Only a little.
I lift the soaked roll to my mouth, inadvertently looking up at the alpha while I take the bite. His eyes darken, and he tracks my tongue as I swipe it over my lips to clean the bit of sauce that got stuck there. Heat bursts inside my mouth, but the rest of the food helps soothe away the sharpest spike of spice. I hum in appreciation, swallowing while he stares.
“Do you like it?” His voice is huskier than before.
“It was all right.” I shrug and dip my roll again.
My nonchalance snaps him out of the gutter. “All right?” he asks, aghast. “If you don’t like it, then I’ll take it back.” His fingers wrap around the edge of the dish, and he slowly slides it to his side of the table.
Now I don’t think I can eat sushi without that wasabi mixture.
I huff. “Fine, I like it.”
“Good girl,” he purrs and sets the little plate back in the middle of the table.
The praise does something funny to my insides, and I suddenly find my eyes tracking over him while he immerses himself in eating. Despite how annoying he is, he is kind of funny. And while I can’t make out the details of his tattoos, on him, they’re like a fine piece of art. Or maybe it’s the alpha himself.
He’s definitely related to Adonis or Zeus.
“You’re staring,” he comments without judgment. “Finally realizing I’m not as bad as you’re determined to believe?”
Yup. And that in itself is a problem. Is the world transpiring against me? Trying to foil my plans of living an alpha-free life by putting the most tempting ones in my path?
Good thing I’ll never see this guy again.
“Nah,” I finally answer. “I was just wondering if I should tell you that you have something on your face.”
There’s nothing on his face, unless you count his strong jaw and envy-worthy cheekbones.
He jolts and swipes his napkin across his mouth. “Did I get it?”
I squint and shake my head. “No.”
Rubbing the napkin over his face, he watches me with a wrinkled brow. “Did I get it now?”
“Yeah,” I say and drop my gaze, holding back a smile.
“What’s your name?”
I glance up. “Carmine.”
“Hmm. Interesting.” Those rich brown eyes flick over my face and down my body—or at least, what he can see of it.
“What?”
“You don’t seem like a Carmine.”
“Well, I am,” I say with a forced laugh. “Not to be rude, but do you mind if we finish up here? I’m ready to go home.”
