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 when she already had someone? Was she really only flirting with him, not expecting him to do anything about it, enjoying the rush of attempting to break down his walls, or was she serious about him?
If she was, did that mean she wasn’t serious about the man waiting for her?
His thoughts spun in circles in his mind, gathering speed, becoming a dizzying blur that had him unsure which direction he was going but aware that danger lay ahead. Her coven had been serious about her returning and bearing a child. Daimon had grown up in a world where goddesses were often betrothed from birth, their family deciding who they would marry.
Had Cass’s coven done the same with her, selecting the man she would be with and expecting her to follow through with it?
Would she follow through with it?
She glanced at him, the feel of her eyes on his face only strengthening the storm building inside him. He had come here wanting to give in to her, but now he wasn’t sure he could do it.
He wasn’t sure he could get over what he had learned about her or the thought she was destined for another man.
He needed to drive that home so he would stop forgetting it, before he did something stupid.
Like falling for her.
It was going to hurt like hell, but it was better to wound himself now than let her utterly destroy him when she left.
“You’re good at this.” He waited for her to look at him again, cursed her for smiling at him and looking happy that he had complimented her when he wasn’t done. He felt like a bastard when he added in a casual tone that hid everything he was feeling, “You’ll make a good mother.”
Her head jerked up, her gaze colliding hard with his. “What do you mean by that?”
Her pulse was off the scale.
She knew exactly what he meant and the fact that she did turned his stomach, had cold sweeping through him as his mood darkened.
Daimon