“Have I already made a mistake?” Ivy asked, pausing in the middle of cutting her piece of lamb. “What?” “You’re staring at me.” Silas shook his head. “No, please,” he said, gesturing to her food. “Go right ahead.” Taking another large pull from his wine, he waited until she’d had three bites before speaking again. “I told you, Ivy,” he purred. “When I’m staring at you, it’s because I’m enjoying what I see.” Her gaze flicked up to meet his. “That’s going to take some getting used to.” “Don’t worry,” he said. “I’m an extremely patient man.” She huffed a laugh but didn’t comment.
