Mathilda
Attempting to tuck my hair behind my ear hasn't been so embarrassing, because my hair is packed up in a ponytail. I had forgotten I didn't let it down my shoulders.
"The wine got soaked in it, so it'd be you wasting your time. Just carry on with your food," Cahill dismisses.
I can feel my cheeks flushing in embarrassment, but I still give him a firm nod.
"Yes, Alpha Cahill."
"Do not call attach the Alpha to my name again, Mathilda." His voice gets hard when he says this. And I recall the time at his jet when he told me to call him just by his name because he's my husband. To be honest, I didn't expect that from him.
"I am waiting for you to talk."
"I'm afraid I have nothing to say," I blurt out. Which isn't a lie because I have no words.
