Aiden’s frown was mixed with confusion and shock. He stood there wearing only his blue jeans, his hair tousled from sleep. “Antonia? What are you doing, woman?”

She was getting drenched while he asked the dumbest questions. She thrust the cake in his face. “I made a cake,” she said through a clenched jaw. “And it’s getting wet.”

He looked from her, to the cake, and back to her. “You wanna come in?” Aiden stepped aside and waited for her to enter.

She was stuck on his stoop, getting wetter and unable to step forward. “I just wanted to show you that I could do it,” she said with a tremulous voice. She was too nervous to move.

“Get inside, Antonia,” he said. The steel edge in his voice made her even more nervous.

Antonia gathered herself and escaped the rain. As she edged past him and walked into his living room. She stood beside his dinner table and watched him close the door. When Aiden approached her, she held the cake up like a barrier.

It wasn’t enough.

He closed the distance between them, standing over her and her pitiful baking experiment. He ran his eyes over her, stopping to stare at the rise and fall of her chest. She was short of breath as she stood under his steady gaze. “You made this?”

“I did,” she said haltingly.

“You made me anger cake?” he asked.

“You don’t know if I was angry,” she said, finding her voice. “For all you know, I just made a cake for the sake of making a fucking cake.”

A dark brow arched as he peered down at her. “You’re not angry now?”

She was getting there. “Do you want it or not?”

Antonia watched him take another step forward, his eyes fixed on hers. “It looks pretty waterlogged,” he said.

She glared at him. “And I’m pretty wet as well.”

Aiden’s mouth twitched slightly. “Are you?” he asked. His voice could barely contain the smug arrogance that his expression hid. An unwelcome blush crept into her cheeks as she realized what she’d said. He quietly regarded her before raising one finger to her cake. He swiped the top layer of icing and gave it a quick inspection before licking it off his finger. The simple act made her hands tremble. He gave a curt nod. “It’s not bad,” he said.

Antonia held her breath and fought to disregard the tumultuous flip in the pit of her stomach. “Thank you,” she breathed.

Aiden then ran his thumb along the top of the cake and held it before her face. He met her gaze, issuing a challenge with forest green eyes that sparkled recklessly. “Would you like a taste?” he asked. His voice dropped to a low vibration that struck a chord between her thighs.

Antonia’s eyes went from his face to the chocolate-covered thumb before her. Her mouth fell open as the cake continued to quake in her grasp. Her heart pounded erratically in her ears. Would she like a taste? Did the serpent ask Eve the same question? “Yes,” she whispered, raising her gaze back to his smoldering eyes. They stayed locked in a feverish stare down as he cradled her face, gently rubbing her bottom lip. Her nervous tongue darted out, licking the icing. Aiden’s nostrils flared as he took a breath and waited.