Page 133 of Theirs to Tempt: The Marriage Claim

“Not this time.”

I press the order button.

Lucian reaches toward the payment screen, but I block him with my arm. “I’m buying my own cupcake.”

“You’re my wife.”

“You’re not paying for this.”

“Sophie.”

“It costs nine dollars.”

“It isn’t the amount.”

“Exactly.” I draw my card from my bag. “Which is why you are going to stand there and survive the devastating experience of allowing me to purchase my own damn cupcake.”

Caleb folds his arms. “Pick your battles, Hawthorne.”

Lucian scowls at him.

Before either of them can intervene, I tap my card.

The machine makes a soft mechanical sound. Behind the glass, a small platform moves into position, receives the cupcake in its clear protective container, then lowers it gently into a gold-lined compartment.

A bell chimes.

The door opens.

I retrieve my prize with disproportionate satisfaction.

“You look pleased with yourself,” Lucian says.

“I successfully completed an independent financial transaction.”

The machine provides a tiny fork, napkins, and a small handled box, but I have no intention of waiting until we reach our hotel.

Right there in the lobby, I open the container.

The cupcake is ridiculous. The frosting rises in a pale pink spiral almost as tall as the cake beneath it, dusted with gold and decorated with a translucent curl of candied orange.

I break off a small piece with the fork.

The citrus cake is tender and bright, the passion-fruit center sharp enough to balance the buttercream, which tastes faintly of champagne.

I momentarily close my eyes and make an obscene little sound.

“That good?” Caleb asks.

“Better.”

He holds out his hand for the fork.

“You have billions of dollars,” I point out. “You could buy every cupcake in the machine.”

“I want yours.”

“That seems to be a recurring problem with both of you.” Reluctantly I offer him a tiny bite.