Chapter 14: Dinner

As evening fell, I noticed his return. Despite the internal scolding I had given Carter earlier, a slight warmth filled me at the sight of him. I mustered all the enthusiasm I could and invited him to join me for dinner, genuinely interested in his well-being.

Observing my good mood, he seemed to soften a bit and agreed to dine together.

"Balley mentioned you visited the ice lanterns today. How was it?" I inquired.

"It wasn't bad at all. The craftsmanship was quite impressive," he replied.

"Balley tagging along made it seem like a little outing for the two of you," he teased, a smirk playing on his lips.

I felt a sudden tension at his remark. "No, it wasn't like that. I just wanted to ensure your safety. You know I worry about you," I retorted, trying to mask any deeper meaning.

He chuckled. "I was only joking. Are you really afraid of me?"

Well, who wouldn't be apprehensive around someone with his reputation? I maintained a composed facade. "No, it's just better to be cautious," I replied stiffly.

He reached out and ruffled my hair affectionately.

After dinner, I explored the house and noticed an impressive collection of wines in the liquor cabinet, all meticulously stored. Sensing their value, I couldn't help but ask, "Are these wines expensive?"

"Priceless," he replied nonchalantly.

Curious, I inquired further, "Which bottle here is the most valuable?"

"These are just some random bottles I brought from home," he explained, leading me to the wine cooler. Pointing to a particular bottle, he remarked, "This one is a Romanee Conti."

I looked at him mischievously. "Can I have a taste?"

He playfully tugged at my earlobe. "Why are you always thinking about drinking?"

I reached up and playfully tugged on his earlobe, teasing, "Are you withholding drinks from me?" Without a word, he promptly retrieved the wine and prepared to uncork the bottle. Pouring two tall glasses, he cautioned, "Drink in moderation; it's easy to overdo it."

Despite his warning, I knew I wasn't much of a drinker. Before long, I found myself feeling a bit tipsy, murmuring under my breath that the wine must be stronger than it seemed.

It wasn't until later that I discovered the staggering price tag of the bottle, exceeding $200,000.

He guided me to my bedroom, not missing the chance to scold me, "You really can't hold your liquor, always getting tipsy and criticizing my fine wine. Let's see if I won't break your legs if I catch you drinking with someone else in the future." With that, he tucked me in and left.

Despite the dizziness from the wine, I felt an unusual excitement, unable to settle down. Eager to explore Devon's room and discover his habits, I slipped out of bed and made my way to his door.

After futilely knocking for a while with no response, I realized the door was unlocked. Quietly entering, I found Devon absent, likely in the shower, oblivious to my presence. His room was sparsely decorated—a bed, a nightstand, and a closet. It dawned on me that this wasn't his permanent residence, explaining the lack of personal belongings.

As I glanced around the room, the sound of running water ceased, and shortly after, he emerged from the bathroom, a towel loosely draped around his waist.

His surprise at finding me in his room was evident, and he scolded, "What are you doing here? Go back to bed!"

"I just wanted to see what you were up to."

"Well, now you've seen. Go back."

"But I haven't finished seeing yet," I retorted, feeling an uncharacteristic boldness, perhaps fueled by the wine.

Noticing that I hadn't bothered with my shoes despite the cold weather, he sighed, "Not again, in the middle of winter." I countered with a playful grin, "It's not cold when you're here."

He regarded me with a mixture of exasperation and concern, his arms crossing over his chest. "You really shouldn't drink wine," he stated firmly.

Ignoring his admonishment, I flopped onto his bed and remarked, "Your bed is so comfy; I might just sleep here tonight."

Approaching me cautiously, he leaned in close and whispered, "Are you sure about that?"

I met his gaze in silence, my mind feeling simultaneously alert and foggy, struggling to keep pace with the conversation.

He repeated more earnestly, "Are you sure you want to stay? You won't regret it?"

After a moment's contemplation, I nodded hesitantly, "I'm considering it."

He reached out, brushing hair from my face and lightly grazing my cheek, eliciting a ticklish sensation.

Suddenly, his lips were on mine, catching me off guard. Stiffening in surprise, I felt immobilized, unsure how to react.

"Relax," he murmured softly in my ear, his tone gentle yet commanding. It was as if I forgot how to breathe as he guided me through the moment, his instructions slowly easing my tension.

I woke up the next day nestled in his arms, feeling a lingering shyness that kept me from meeting his gaze. Opting to feign sleep, I closed my eyes.

"Don't pretend to be asleep when you're awake," he teased.

"You caught me?" I asked, peeking through my lashes.

"You're fluttering your eyelashes too obviously," he replied with a playful tone.

If the events of the previous night left me feeling embarrassed, facing the morning's nakedness was even more daunting. I sought refuge under the covers, unwilling to emerge from the safety of the bed.

"You're really in my bed, huh?" he remarked, gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear.

"I'm still awake," I mumbled, retreating further under the covers.

With a resigned sigh, he said, "Alright then, I'll get up." With that, he rose from the bed, leaving me momentarily alone with my thoughts.

The sudden sight of his naked form as he stood by the bedside startled me, prompting me to bury myself deeper under the covers.

From beyond the covers, his voice reached me, "Oh, Aria, what am I going to do with you?"

Moments later, he tossed my pajamas in my direction. "Put these on and come downstairs for dinner," he instructed before leaving the room.

After hearing the door close, I cautiously emerged from my hiding place, quickly dressing and making my way downstairs.

As I joined him at the breakfast table, he glanced at me and remarked, "Comfortable down there?"

Confused by his question, I flushed with embarrassment, avoiding his gaze. His laughter only deepened my embarrassment as he joked, "Rosa, change the sheets in my room later."

Feeling mortified, I lost my appetite and started to rise from the table.

He reached out, grasping my hand. "Aria, I'm just teasing. Please, enjoy your meal. I made your favorite seafood porridge," he reassured me with a gentle tug.

In summary, Devon had a knack for teasing, even if it sometimes left a bitter taste in my mouth.