A smile unexpectedly curled the corners of Emma Hart's lips. When did this man learn to serve others? She was about to grab the handles of the tray to pour the soup when Damien Sterling suddenly understood what was happening.
"Put it down."
What now? Emma Hart looked at Damien Sterling with an expression of confusion, faced with yet another cold command.
Hesitating momentarily, Emma released her grip and sat back down, staring at Damien in disbelief. He stepped forward, grabbed the handles of the tray—which were unexpectedly hot, causing his pale fingers to jerk back briefly—then carefully poured the soup for Emma and placed the jar back down with precise care. Then, Damien pushed the bowl of soup towards her. "Drink it."
Emma could only marvel at Damien Sterling. It was just a bowl of soup, but the way he spoke, it might as well have been a dose of deadly poison. Why couldn't he just talk normally?
