To Love a Shadow, To Be the Sun novel Chapter 313

Elara glanced at him instinctively, only to realize he was dressed more formally than usual today.

Meanwhile, her own outfit was nothing special, probably still carrying a faint whiff of that “lucky charm” spray from The Shaws.

Embarrassment crept up her neck. She grabbed a full cup of tea to distract herself.

“Sorry, cheers. I’ll go freshen up and come back.”

She turned to leave as soon as the words were out.

“Elara!” Zane called after her.

She stopped mid-step and turned back.

“Running around like this—aren’t you worried about your blood sugar?” His tone was as calm as ever.

Truthfully, she did feel a little lightheaded.

“It’s just a meal. Why are you so nervous?” Zane asked.

Elara pressed a hand to her chest and took a deep breath.

If only he hadn’t dressed so sharply, she might not be so flustered.

As it was, the whole situation felt uncomfortably like a married woman sneaking out to a blind date. How could she not be nervous?

Zane, looking every bit the picture of composure, was about to gesture her toward the table when his elbow bumped the teapot.

With a loud clatter, the pot wobbled. Both of them lunged to steady it.

Elara was just a beat too slow—her hand landed on top of Zane’s.

She recoiled instantly, as if shocked, but Zane caught her hand in his.

Her heart skipped a beat. She held her breath, not daring to look up at him.

In moments like this, she almost missed the simplicity of trading punches with him.

Zane, watching her from up close, his voice dropping to a low, husky note, said, “The tea you just drank… I’d already had a sip from that cup.”

Elara’s mind went blank, her cheeks flushing a deep pink.

She instinctively tried to pull her hand away, but Zane’s grip tightened slightly.

She could feel the warmth of his palm, the faint, lingering touch of his thumb moving against her skin.

Her heart thundered in her chest, her breath caught, and she could only stare at him in stunned silence.

“Drinking from my cup,” Zane murmured, “means you’ve agreed, right?”

“A—agreed to what?” Elara finally managed, her voice barely above a whisper.

She’d met plenty of men—how had he managed to get under her skin so easily?

“Zane!” she called after him as he headed toward the table.

He glanced back, his deep eyes warm and thoughtful.

“You’re still wearing your wedding ring,” she pointed out.

Zane looked down at his hand and nodded.

“It’s not a wedding ring in the traditional sense. There’s nothing inappropriate between us, but I’ll take care of it soon.”

Elara frowned, not quite understanding.

Not a wedding ring in the traditional sense?

Was he in some kind of sham marriage?

A few minutes later, a waiter in a gold-embroidered jacket began serving the meal.

Each dish looked like a work of art, every bite worth a fortune.

Zane, unfazed, described the lavish spread as a “high-end light meal,” just so she’d feel comfortable enough to eat a little more.