"They say I am cold and cruel." He shot her a heated look.

"You thought it would be that easy? What kind of a woman do you think I am?" She pressed the palm of her hand to her chest, feigning shock.

"I know exactly what kind of woman you are," he taunted. "The kind that destroys my kitchen and then assaults me with her feminine wiles."

He still had flour all over his face, but it didn't dull how handsome he looked. His disheveled appearance seemed to add to his appeal.

Qian Meng thought she looked like a train wreck, though. If only she knew what Mo Qingchen was thinking.

"Feminine wiles?" She batted her eyelashes at him. "Can I help it if you lose all self-control when you are around me? I am just a pure little girl."

"Very observant, Mrs. Mo. As a matter of fact, I am feeling a little out of control right now." She didn't see his hand coming. He raised it out of the open bag of flour with a big heap in it.

"Don't you—" She was too late. She was cut off with a mouth full of flour. It splattered across her face and down her neck.

His smile was pure evil.

"You messed with the wrong person!" she said as she wiped her face.

Mo Qingchen brushed the flour from his hands. "I'm not afraid of you," he said, using the words to mock her.

"You should fear me most of all!"

"I think I can handle it." He arched his brow at her.

"Mr. Mo, you should sleep with one eye open," she warned.

"You plan on sleeping tonight?" She shook his head slowly. "It's highly unlikely."

"Is that so?"

He shrugged. "Unless you can't handle it. You might be too fragile."

"I am not fragile." Her hands flew to her hips. "Bring it on, Mr. Mo," she taunted over her shoulder as she headed for the sink. "Go wash up. I'll serve dinner in fifteen minutes!" She turned to face him.

Mo Qingchen's eyes widened. "We are eating this?" He looked around at the unappealing food surround them.

She huffed at the nerve of him as she washed her hands. "Yes. I have been cooking for you for hours!"

He threw her a disapproving scowl. "I'm not easy to please when it comes to food. Your skills are dangerously bad."

She dried her hands on a towel. Her face was still sticky, but she could deal with that later. "You can't make that judgment until you have tasted it. Never judge a book my its cover."

He glanced over at her pitiful looking potatoes. "The cover of this book looks like horror. I know what is inside."

She shooed him out of the kitchen. Standing there in the middle of the kitchen, she rolled her eyes. Horror story. He had no clue what he was talking about.

As she glanced at the kitchen again, she stifled her own complaints in her heart. She really didn't want to eat this food.

The table was really set for a king. The priceless china, the sparkling silverware were all stunning. Every last detail on the table was perfect. Until she put the food on it.

Mo Qingchen strolled into the dining room fresh from a shower, hair still damp and his face shaven cleanly. He took in the feat in front of him as he slowly approached. He attempted to mask his disdain. Qian Meng knew that it took a great effort on his part.

Qian Meng hadn't realized how much this meal actually meant to her. It was just a meal. Why would she even care? Yet, her stomach coiled in knots, and she broke out into cold sweat and her breathing became erratic.

How was she going to feed Mo Qingchen with her hands numb?

Mo Qingchen sat at the head of the table, glancing around at what had to be the worst meal he had seen in his entire cushy life.

"You don't have to eat it," she blurted out. She sounded like she was helping him dodge certain doom.

His black eyes locked onto her. "Come here," he ordered.

Her legs made their way over to him. Normally, she would banter about his bossy attitude, but she let it slide. Honestly, she wasn't even thinking clearly. A million anxious thoughts passed her mind in the span of a few seconds it took her to reach his side.

"I'm sorry," she apologized with such deep remorse that it caught her off guard. Her pride usually didn't allow her to apologize for such matters.

Mo Qingchen leaned back into his chair. "Okay, I'm concerned now. What happened?"

She liked how he didn't ask what she had done wrong to apologize. She shook her head and tucked the stray strand of hair behind her ear. "I wanted you to have a nice birthday meal but I ruined it."

She was surprised to find her eyes heating with unshed tears.

"Have you tasted it?" he asked calmly.

She rolled her eyes. "Look at it." She cringed. "It looks like a horror show. Do you really want to know what happens in the end? It's your tongue on the guillotine."

Mo Qingchen reached out and grabbed her hand, pulling her down onto his lap. "I'm actually excited to find out how the story ends. Even if my tongue is on the line."

She raised her eyes slowly. "Don't mock me." She sounded like a child.

Mo Qingchen brushed the hair off her shoulder and lowered his lips to her ear. "I don't care about the food. The fact that you thought of cooking for me is enough." He paused, his eyes darkening. "In fact, you are the most delicious thing I have ever seen," he whispered seductively.

Qian Meng's face broke into a girlish smile. "You are such a smooth talker."

He wrapped his arm around her waist. "Now keep your promise. You have to feed me."

"Fine," she dragged the word out and released a sigh. "If you insist. I really hope you are not that hungry."