Page 14 of Viper’s Reign

His entire face shuts off in the span of a second, the warmth draining out of his stunning eyes once again.

Shit.

“I suppose you could say that,” he replies flatly, lowering his eyes to his plate.

I press my lips together. Idiot. I should have known better. If I hate talking about the parents who abandoned me when I was a child, parents I don’t even remember, why would he want to talk about the father he lost less than ten years ago with a stranger he just met?

I silently curse myself over and over as the rest of the dinner passes in uncomfortable silence. Did I just blow my big chance to save Millie? How the hell am I supposed to worm my way into another meeting with him if he’s already lost interest?

I need to fix this. But the problem is, I’m so inexperienced with men that no matter how hard I try, I can’t think of a single foothold back to the easy, playful tone we had before I ruined it.

I’m still grasping at nothing when the dessert is brought over—a plate of dark chocolate fondant with vanilla ice cream—and placed in front of me. I glance at Dimitri. “You’re not having any?”

“Dessert isn’t really my thing.” His voice is clipped, and my brows furrow.

I scoop up the chocolate, but I can’t even enjoy the rich, smooth sweetness. The thought that I’ve ruined everything sits too heavily in my chest. But the worst part isn’t that I might have jeopardized my mission, it’s that there’s another niggling part of me that is devastated I might have ruined my chance with him.

What the hell is wrong with you? I snap at myself. Get yourself together. You’re here to save your friend, not find love.

But my mind keeps circling irrelevant questions. What made him look twice at me in the first place? The question I asked during Jacob’s presentation? From what I could tell, it looked like he was supposed to dine alone before my chair was added to his table. What could I have possibly done to get this close to him in the first place?

And how do I do it again?

There are no answers to be found in my scrambling head. Hell, I think I might blank out completely.

But suddenly, and almost without thought, I find myself scooping up the last piece of fondant.

Almost like I’m in a trance, my hand moves over the table until the spoon is hovering near his lips.

Both of his brows shoot up to his perfect hairline, and before I can stop myself, I say it.

“Say ahhh.”

He freezes. Time stops. Heat floods my cheeks. My heart is pounding so hard I can hear it in my ears. All I can think is: What the hell am I doing? And how the hell did I get here, holding a spoon of dessert inches away from Dimitri Petrov’s face, unable to move?

The thoughts circle in an eddy of dread, pulling me deeper into the abyss. Then, to my utter disbelief—and relief—his lips actually part.

After a moment of surprised hesitation, I guide the spoon forward—but at the very last second, I change direction and eat it myself.

“Yum.” I swallow, completely without grace. “You really should have gotten one.”

His jaw goes slack, his eyes widening as he watches me with disbelief. He looks almost shell-shocked, and I don’t blame him one bit.

“The audacity,” he mumbles, before a faint twinkle of amusement settles into his expression.

He leans toward me and my heart restarts.

No way. I’ve got him back.

My pulse thunders in my ears as I lean in to match him.

“So I may have screwed up asking about your dad, but you didn’t need to sulk about it.”

“I don’t sulk,” he growls.

I choke out a laugh.

“I beg to differ.”