Blanche's POV
His face darkened instantly—Vincent was clearly upset about something.
I stared at him, puzzled. "What's wrong?"
Vincent met my gaze, irritation clear in his voice. "Who told you to put on makeup today?"
That's when I realized—I had actually applied makeup earlier.
I couldn't figure out what he was driving at, so I simply explained, "I needed it to take Carry to preschool."
Vincent's voice was heavy with frustration. "That's still off-limits."
I wasn't in the mood to fight with him, so I just asked, "Are you sleeping or not?"
Vincent gave me that devilish smile. "Seems like my sweetheart is getting impatient."
I caught the suggestive tone in his words and glared at him. "Come on, you understand what I meant better than anyone."
Vincent's mischievous grin widened as he bent down, bringing his eyes level with mine. "Of course I do."
He was still intentionally twisting my words, playing games with me.
