Melt for You (Slow Burn #2)(26)

There goes his smile, disappearing faster than a bowl of chocolate H?agen-Dazs down my throat. He leans toward me with a low growl.

“Tear yourself down in front of me again, woman, and I’ll take you over my knee and make you wish you hadn’t.”

We stare at each other while the clock ticks on the kitchen wall and Mr. Bingley makes a meal of his hind paw, going at it like I go at a rack of ribs.

“Why’re your lips twitchin’?” Cam narrows his eyes at me.

“Because I’m trying to decide if that’s sweet, sexist, or so ridiculous I should laugh.”

Cam’s face clears like the sun breaking through thunderclouds. He leans back into his chair and grins. “That’s easy, lass. It’s sweet.”

Is this guy for real? “Question. Purely for curiosity’s sake.”

“Shoot.”

“Have you ever actually taken a woman over your knee as punishment?”

When his grin turns wicked, I hold up a hand. “Nope. Never mind. I don’t want to know.” A sudden spike of pain lances through my skull, and I wince, pressing my fingers to my eyes.

“What’s wrong?”

“Ugh. Headache.”

Cam’s brow wrinkles. “I know you think I’m irritatin’, but causin’ an actual headache is on a whole other level.”

“It’s not you. I mean it is you, but it’s mainly because I haven’t eaten anything all day.”

Cam thunders, “Why the bloody hell not?”

I wince. “Oh, thanks for that. Shouting is great for headaches.”

“Don’t avoid the question!”

When I sigh heavily and rub my temple, Cam says darkly, “This better not have anythin’ to do with pretty boy and the office holiday party.”

Okay, so he’s smart . . . ish. But he’s also on my last nerve, and I know if I admit I’m starving myself to lose weight, he’ll have all kinds of opinions on the subject, so I decide to tell a teensy white lie.

I inspect a crack on the wall over his left shoulder. “My stomach has just been a little upset.”

After a short pause, Cam sighs. “You lie for shit, woman.”

He pronounces shit like shyte. It’s kind of adorable, but I hate him, so it’s not. “What makes you think I’m lying?”

“Student of humanity, remember?”

I resist the urge to stick out my tongue and simply stare at him instead.

“Okay, your face gets all scrunched up and your whole body does this cringy, foldin’-in-on-itself thing. You might as well be wearin’ a sign on your forehead.”

“That is inconvenient.”

Cam’s voice softens, and so do his eyes. “No, lass. It’s a good thing.” Then his voice gets hard again. “But starvation diets are not.”

“Could you please be less observant? It’s making my headache worse.”

“No, and tough. A headache is the price you pay for bein’ a bloody idiot. Your body needs fuel, lass, and if it doesn’t get it, it’ll start to cannibalize your muscles, and then you’ll have worse problems than headaches.”

I grumble, “What’re you, a doctor?”

He stands and braces his hands on his hips, towering over me. Mr. Bingley hops to the floor and waits patiently at his feet.

Cam says, “Look at me, lass. Look at this body.” He throws out his arms, juts out his chin, and puffs out his chest. “You think I got this perfect physique by starvin’ myself? You think I became the world’s most famous, beloved athlete by tryin’ to be skinny?”

“I’m sorry, could you repeat the question? Your ego is blocking my ears.”

“The human body is a complex machine. A temple, as they say. You have to treat it like one!”

“Yeah, well, my temple is more like an abandoned ruin the jungle has taken over and a herd of billy goats is living in.”

I can tell Cam wants to laugh, but he’s trying hard to keep his serious face because he’s not finished with his scolding. He wags a finger at me like Granny Gums does when she’s warning that my biological clock is on a death-spiral countdown.

“What you need is a customized diet and exercise program.”

“Incorrect. What I need is liposuction.”

He shudders, as if the thought repulses him, and drops back into his chair, which creaks in protest under his weight. Mr. Bingley instantly jumps back into his lap. I’m starting to wonder if Cam rubs catnip on his body before coming over.

“No lipo. Your body will burn fat efficiently if you feed it properly and work it out.”

“Hooray. Unfortunately, I’m addicted to carbs and sugar and allergic to exercise, so the only way I’m going to burn fat is if someone comes at me with a blowtorch or if I stop eating altogether. I decided I’d try option two first.”

Cam drums his fingers on the table, pinning me in his intense gaze until I’m shifting in my seat because his look makes me so uncomfortable. Then he pronounces, “We start trainin’ tomorrow mornin’.”

I say archly, “I’m not taking you up on your kissing coaching, pal, no matter how many panties you’ve dropped! Let it go.”

He rolls his eyes, as if I’m the one who’s being ridiculous. “I’m talkin’ about an exercise program.”