Isla didn't dare look up for the rest of the meal, spending every bite in a low-grade panic.
She was starving, but wouldn't touch anything without inspecting it first even the water got a cautious lick before she committed to drinking.
Twice now, this man has ruined dinner. First he bankrupted me. Now he tried to poison my taste buds. Never again.
Nothing good has ever come from eating with this man.
"Mr. Vale, it's getting late I should head home. Thank you for dinner." Isla wiped her mouth, considerably steadier than the mess she'd been minutes ago.
Dancing with a wolf requires nerve. And apparently a lot of self-control.
Since he hadn't brought up the wasabi disaster directly, she decided to pretend she didn't suspect a thing either.
She set down her napkin, hands folded on her k
