Emma tugged him closer, her small hands firm against his shoulders, forcing him to meet her gaze. Her eyes shimmered, heavy with unshed tears, but her voice came out soft, almost playful.
"You didn't give me flowers today…"
Elias pressed his lips together, trying to hold it in, but the smallest laugh escaped him. At this moment, was she bringing up the flowers? His laugh spilled over before he could stop it, rough and unpracticed, and to his horror, a faint spray caught her cheek.
The sensually charged silence was shattered.
"I—" His eyes widened, and for the first time, the unflappable Elias looked flustered. "I apologize," he muttered quickly, fumbling for a cloth, wiping her face with a hand far too gentle for the blunt and indifferent tone he tried to keep. Regret flickered in his gaze, almost panicked. He hadn't meant to laugh. He hadn't meant to…
