“Never mind. This … dinner thing. Is it my next FiendPay task?” her tone was brusque, businesslike, and she straightened, setting the donuts on the corner of the table.

My fingers itched to reach for her. To pull her to me. To do something, anything, to wipe that resigned expression from her face. I’d rather her scowl at me … preferably in conjunction with her using that smart mouth to tear me a new one …

“What if I said it wasn’t …” I hedged.

She raised a brow. “You’re asking me out for dinner, with no ulterior motive … like a date?”

It appeared it was my turn to blush. I cursed inwardly. Devils don’t blush!

“Alright … it is a FiendPay task. Which means you cannot say no.”

“Well, I do so love it when a man coerces me into a dinner date.” Her tone was sarcastic, but there was a sparkle in her eyes that made my stomach flip.

Her hands went to her hips. “Where are you taking me? Is it fancy? Do I need to dress up? It’s … it is a human establishment, isn’t it? Like, you’re not going to drag me to some Hell-hole in the wall where you plan to ply me with demon brew and take advantage of me, is it?’

“Would you like it to be?” I asked wickedly, taking a step closer. “I had made other plans, but I could rearrange them …”

Her eyes widened, her tongue darting out, wetting her lips. “Uh … let’s just hear your original plan first.”

I stepped closer again, flipping the lid on the donuts and taking one out. “I have reservations at a local place … the chef owes my father a favour.” I bit into the donut, because my face twisted at the knowledge of what that favour was, and I didn’t want Jemma to see … to suspect.

I should have given her more credit, clever little thing she was.

“So … old Cheffy’s been suckered into selling his soul too, has he?” She snatched the half-eaten donut from my hands, taking a bite.

“You like to steal my food, do you not?” I remarked. “First that apple in your apartment, and now this?”

What I didn’t voice was how much I liked watching her plump lips wrapped around the same places mine had just been.

Stop thinking about her like that, you stupid, moronic devil!

“Let’s be clear. The apple, and this donut … both actually my food. So, the thief here is you, you giant beast! And stop trying to change the subject! Did you, or did you not, steal the chef’s soul?”