Daimon stared at the square of chocolate cake and held his hands up. “If by good you mean bouncing off the walls and probably causing an ice storm, then sure.”
She frowned at him, a puzzled edge to her blue eyes.
“I can’t have caffeine. There’s caffeine in chocolate. Enough that I may or may not go off the rails. Personally, I don’t want to risk finding out which it would be.” When she just continued to stare at him, he added, “None of us can have caffeine. It’s like alcohol and mortal drugs. All very bad things and strictly forbidden.”
She looked disappointed to hear that as she lowered her gaze to the slice. “I thought I knew you all better, but all the information I gathered never revealed you and your brothers can’t have caffeine.”
Or maybe she was irritated with herself.
She huffed. “There’s so much I didn’t know about you.”
He knew she was talking about him specifically now. Before he could overcome how strange it felt to want to talk about his past and say anything about what she had witnessed, she continued.
“What will I do with all these brownies?” She gazed longingly at them, revealing she had an idea what to do with them.
“Aiko and the others would probably love them. They need a pick me up right now.”
The longing edge to her gaze only grew stronger as she muttered, “Everyone does. I’d eat them all, but a moment on the lips…”
She patted her hips.
Her very shapely hips.
Surprise claimed him when he was tempted to say she would only look better with a little more flesh on her curves. The words refused to leave his lips, dying quickly when he recalled the letter he had seen on her desk and the way she had touched Megan’s belly and asked about pregnancy.
She was meant for someone else, destined to bear his child.
He twisted and eased his backside against the counter, watched her in silence as she leafed through a cookery book, muttering things to herself about recipes without chocolate.
The silence felt comfortable, even as it cut at him, filling his head with thoughts of Cass with some nameless, faceless man. Milos graced him with a hiss as he strolled past and glared at him as he wound around Cass’s ankles.
She blew kisses at the raggedy tomcat, her voice light and airy, as if she was talking to a baby. “What kind of baked goods do gods like, Milos?”
The cat meowed sweetly, and then issued another glare at Daimon when Cass went back to the book.
Unwilling to have a cat of all things steal her attention away from him, Daimon said, “I have a sweet tooth.”
She looked across at him, her eyebrows rising. “You do?”
He nodded. “I like rice cakes. I go to Asakusa sometimes to stroll along the stalls and buy some. The local gods don’t like me treading on their turf, but they’ve never tried to kick me off. They have more of a problem with Esher.”
The light that had been in his voice, that had been filling him, faded as he thought about his brother. Where was he? He stared at the cupboards opposite him, the temptation to force Cal to open a portal for him growing again.
Cass’s voice broke into his thoughts. “What else do you like?”
He glanced at her, saw in her eyes that she had noticed the change in his mood and was trying to distract him.
“Moon cakes. Mochi,” he offered, and tried to think of something she would be able to make with the ingredients scattered around the kitchen. “Victoria sponge cake.”
“That was a little left field.” She frowned at him.
“My brothers like it too… and you have all the ingredients right here.”
“Oh, so you picked something I could make. Heaven forbid the women get all the sweet things and the gods don’t get any offerings.” She looked as if she wanted to tease him some more and then picked up a bag of flour. “Very well… but I warn you, I make the very best Victoria sponge cake. Every one you have after today will be pale in comparison.”
Daimon shrugged, one that felt so easy that it surprised him, together with the smile that curled his lips. “Unless I get you to make another sometime.”
She looked at him, suddenly serious, and his smile faded as the light that had been filling him again switched off.
Her blue gaze dropped to her work as she picked out a clean bowl and gathered ingredients. “I like sweet things too. I always got along well with Eric because of it. He made the best sweet treats. Chocolates to die for. The man was a genius. I really missed that once Mari grew up and was old enough to notice I don’t age like others. Eric would send me boxes of chocolates from time to time, but it wasn’t the same as sitting in his shop eating whatever I wanted as we talked.”
It took Daimon a moment to remember who Eric was, and even when he did, it didn’t stop him from feeling jealous. The sparkle in her eyes as she spoke of Eric told Daimon that she had loved him.
It was ridiculous of Daimon to be jealous of a dead man, but he couldn’t help it. The possessive side of him wanted her all to himself, didn’t want to share her with anyone, dead or alive.
He reminded himself that it didn’t matter what he wanted. She wasn’t destined to be his. He had come here ready to speak with her, to brave the next step and give in to his attraction to her, but now that he was near her again, he couldn’t stop thinking about the letter.
How was he meant to give in to her when he knew another man was waiting for her? How could she want him
