“You’ll enjoy it. I made it just the way you like.”
Pointedly ignoring his comment, she was reaching for the fork when a thought occurred to her.
“Wait.” Evangeline shoved her plate toward him. “You first.”
Maddox cocked his head.
She jerked her chin at the fork still lying on the tray table between them. “I remember something alright—I remember what happened the last time you made something for me. Your ‘calming’ drugs were in the coffee, right? You never confirmed that.”
Maddox’s lips thinned. Okay. Seemed as if he still wasn’t going to admit to it.
Fine. “How do I know that you didn’t do something to this dinner?”
“You don’t.”
“Exactly. You take a bite first. From the potato and the steak. Until you do, I won’t eat a single bite. I’ll starve first.”
For a second, she thought he would refuse. He didn’t. Locking eyes with her, Maddox grabbed the fork. He used the edge to slice off a piece of steak, then popped it in his mouth. A forkful of the baked potato followed. He chewed. Swallowed.
He placed the fork back onto the plate. “There. Perfectly fine. Now eat.”
Evangeline didn’t like being told what to do. However, she was so hungry that she chose to take up the fork on her own. Within minutes, she’d polished the e
ntire steak, eating half of the potato before she picked up her glass of water again.
She drank, then set the glass on the nightstand so she could turn her attention to demolishing the rest of the potato.
Maddox let out a soft rumble that seemed like contentment. Did wolves purr? Evangeline didn’t know, but it’s what the sound reminded her of.
“I know you don’t remember this,” he murmured, “but I’ve always loved watching you eat. It makes me happy.”
Evangeline nearly choked on her bite. She snatched at the glass of water again, draining the rest of it in three gulps.
His eyes glittered innocently. “Was it something I said?”
“No. It just went down the wrong pipe.”
“Mm.”
She meant to glare at him. The effect was ruined when, as she narrowed her gaze on him, a huge yawn ripped out of her. Her eyes were so heavy, they were like sandbags weighing on her lids.
Her hand went limp. The fork fell onto the sheet.
And that’s when she realized why this stupid, dozy feeling felt so familiar.
“You…” Evangeline glanced down at her plate. It was hard to do any strenuous thinking since her head felt like it was stuffed with cotton candy, but she could still put two and two together. “The food— you drugged me again? How? You ate some!”
“You’ve always been smart, Angie. I knew you’d expect something like that in your meal.”
It dawned on her. “The water. It was in the stupid water.”
Maddox nodded.
“This time I mean it,” she slurred, her head drooping. “I really hate you.”
“I know, Angie. I know.”
21