Page 170 of Barbi and the Villain

“I really do not know. I am a little rusty with my old age and all that. You should remind me what it is.”

“You’re making fun of me,” I accuse, narrowing my eyes at him.

“You are too cute.” He shakes his head.

“I don’t want to be cute,” I mutter under my breath in annoyance.

“What? Why?”

“Cute is what you’d say to a dog, or a shirt, or I don’t know…a child? You don’t say that to your mate,” I grumble, looking away.

His lips tremble with mirth.

“And what would you prefer then?”

“You know… Beautiful, sexy, seductive…that sort of stuff.”

He doesn’t reply.

I chance a glance at him, and I note he’s staring at me with a gentle smile on his face.

“You have it all wrong, Barbs. Sure, you are beautiful, sexy, alluring, and every synonym in the dictionary. But cute encompasses so much more.”

I blink in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“It is a visceral feeling that arises in your chest when you see something that tugs at your heartstrings. It is an itch that cannot be scratched, for if I tried to, I fear I would smother you to death in my embrace.”

I stare at him, speechless.

Slowly, I move closer to him, angling my body to better fit his. Wrapping my arms around his waist, I lay my head on his chest.

He appears surprised by my gesture as he remains still.

“That is the sweetest thing you have ever said to me,” I whisper. “I think I like cute now.”

The tension in his body recedes, and he tentatively places his arms around me.

“Tighter.” I chuckle. “You promised to smother me to death. Now you won’t deliver, oh, you villainous Dark One?”

His chest rumbles with laughter, but he pulls me tighter against him.

And when he sees I don’t object, he holds me even tighter.

“I think I like being smothered to death,” I speak softly against his chest.

“But only by me,” he adds with a wicked grin.

“Only by you,” I agree. “As long as I’m the only one you smother too.”

“How did we get to this morbid talk?” He chuckles. “I thought we were talking about it.”

“Ugh, stop it!” I burrow deeper in his chest to hide my blush.

“You, sweetheart, are far too easy to rile up.” He laughs.

“And you love riling me up far too much,” I mumble grumpily.

“Why do you think? Because you are so damn cute.”

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