The sound of her voice worried Dominic; she didn't sound like the Arette he knew anymore. Even if she was pretending back then, he preferred it to this version of her.
The food served on the table was an elaborate dish of poached salmon with dill and lemon sauce, accompanied by asparagus and truffle mashed potatoes. As soon as the scent reached Arette, she felt a wave of nausea wash over her. She quickly hid her discomfort, not wanting to draw any attention.
Sitting beside Dominic was hell for her. Every time she glanced at his godforsaken face, her urge to throw his food back at him intensified. She held her literal disgust in, her knuckles turning white as she gripped her utensils. Nicolas sat at the other end of the table, which brought her a small measure of relief.
