I cleared my throat. “That sucks. Well, at least I get to enjoy your cooking.” I grinned and went back to eating, ignoring his stare.

We finished dinner, and after I cleared away, I plated two chocolate muffins. Adrik still sat at the table. He’d been watching me the whole time while I talked about my favorite movies. I dropped a plate in front of him and then sat with my own.

I couldn’t help it. I started laughing from his almost fearful look at the dessert. “It’s okay. It won’t attack.” Shaking my head, I smiled. “I’m sure your perfect physique could take a hit for one night. Maybe you could do an extra sit-up for it.”

His gaze lifted, along with one brow. “Perfect?”

Shit.

I waved a hand around and pulled my muffin close. “Doesn’t matter. Try the muffin. Please?”

He grumbled something but tore off a little from the top and popped it into his mouth. He sucked, chewed, and his eyes lit with something I hadn’t seen.

“Good?” I asked, totally searching for compliments.

“Da, perfect.”

I didn’t care he was teasing by using the word “perfect.” I was happy he liked it, and he even went back for more.

After we’d emptied our plates, I stood and went for his plate, but his hand snapped around my wrist, stilling me. My heart went haywire. My eyes drifted to his slightly larger hand on my skin—the skin that warmed from his touch.

“You cooked. I take plates,” he explained.

“Right… um, okay.” I nodded and swooned on the inside. I plonked back down on my seat, and I couldn’t help but notice Adrik slowly drew his hand away. All right, I was hyperaware of his movements, and when he walked by, I—like the stalker I was—took in a deep breath to take in his scent.

Fuck a blender, I had to stop obsessing over this man.

I stood. “Chess?” I yelled and winced.

“Da.” His da sounded lighter than usual.

“Right, meet you in the living room.” I bolted out of the room like my underwear was on fire. I wished this client, Adrik, was more than just company, and that wasn’t good. To busy myself, I went to his bookshelf and took a look at the type of books he liked to read. Only to curse under my breath because they were in Russian. Still, I searched for something I recognized.