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I laugh under my breath.

“Careful.”

“Why?”

“You keep looking at me like that, and you're going to find out exactly what I'm up for.”

The heat in her eyes intensifies. There she is.

My Sweet.

My stubborn, gorgeous Witch who hexed me through a fucking doorway a few days ago and is now deliberately teasing me over homemade chocolate.

I wouldn't trade one version for the other.

“But I was thinking...” She pauses.

My chest tightens.

“Dangerous.”

“Damian.”

“Sorry.”

“No, you're not.”

“Not even a little.”

Her lips twitch. Then her gaze drops to my mouth.

Just for a second. But I catch it.

Fuck, do I catch it.

“Your bed is bigger than mine.”

Everything in me stills. The teasing disappears.

Because suddenly I need to be very fucking sure I'm hearing what she's actually saying. I set down my wineglass.

“My bed is yours, Little Witch. If you want it.”

Her eyes meet mine. I see the flicker there.

Not fear.

Something softer.

Something that makes me want too fucking much.

Her in my bed.

Her clothes in my closet.

Her ridiculous orange cat stalking Albert through my house.

Her shampoo beside mine.