Page 19 of Kidnapped Plus-Size Mate

Somehow, the conversation goes to me as Sterling asks me questions about myself and my interests. He seems dedicated to learning more about me. In the back of my mind, there’s a tiny voice that keeps intrusively wondering why he’s interested at all.

I do my best to push her aside, just so that I can enjoy the night for whatever it is. When our meal arrives, I turn my attention to the food, a comfortable silence falling over us. I can’t help but steal a few glances at him now and then.

The eye candy is seated across from me, and I’m mentally drooling over the endless possibilities of what those lips can do.

“I erm—” I clear my throat to clear out those heinous thoughts. “... I noticed you before, at the museum,” I reveal timidly, my eyes following the navigation of my fork as I toy with my dessert without much desire to take a morsel of the appetizing tiramisu between my lips. How can I, when the most delicious man sits across the table, giving me the floor to speak my mind?

I never thought a man could show even an ounce of interest in me.

“You didn’t pay for those tours…”

“Hm,” he hums before a clink of metal rings out when he sets his fork down. Like a signaling beat, my eyes are drawn back to see him steepling his fingers in front of him and propping his chin forward as if he’s about to offer the most profound explanation for why he didn’t pay when he could clearly afford to.

“I was trying to get your attention,” he says.

The unbelievable statement weakens my fingers, and my fork drops out of my hand and onto the table. I blink disbelievingly, my mouth dropping in surprise.

“M-my attention?”

“Yes,” he smirks. “I needed to do something insane to grab your attention. It seems to have worked. I made a lasting impression, didn’t I?”

Woah!

Does he not realize that he’s the walking embodiment of the finest sculpture ever known to history? A walking Adonis.

I want to pinch myself every time I meet the green hazes of his eyes, in case I’m dreaming.

He was vying for my attention?

I don’t believe this.

It must be a dream.

“I—uh—I,” I fumble on my words, but Sterling chuckles nervously, drops his hands, and hangs his head sheepishly.

“Sorry. I know it wasn’t a very impressive first impression,” he shrugs timidly. “I erm—” He clears his throat and meets my eyes again, this time with a glint of earnestly shining through the emerald depths. “I saw you giving a tourbefore, and I was too nervous to come forward and approach you.”

Something about the intensity of his gaze indicates that he’s being honest right now. It’s just absurd to think that the man I only ogled from the sidelines was too nervous to approach me.

I have so little going for myself.

Does he see something I don’t?

A nervous giggle slips from my lips, the sound treading on the fine line between confusion and utter disbelief.

“Nervous?” I titter, reaching for my wine.

“Uh-huh,” he concedes, leaning back calmly in his seat. “You’re intimidating, Camilla. Any man would become nervous around you.”

Almost choking on the large sip of wine I’d taken, I set my glass down, unable to accept the compliment. I’ve never been able to accept compliments before, let alone one so intense that it has my cheeks burning.

“Uhm…” I gulp, looking for the exit door of this conversation. “... So, about the dragon in the painting…”

Sterling smirks knowingly, a gentle chuckle escaping his lips before he takes a sip of his wine. The air was still dense with the compliment he’d thrown me.

But I have no idea how to flirt with good-looking men.

I’ve never had to before.

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