Step one: make herself look sane. The disheveled look screamed 'unstable'.

  Step two: The food she could make presentable on gorgeous dishes.

  Mo Qingchen would never see their dark past.

  She let out a small sigh of relief, feeling better immediately. As she made her way to the prep area, she managed a confident sway of the hips. She totally had this!

  A cocky grin began to spread across her face.

  She heard footsteps behind her as she reached it. Mo Qingchen stood frozen in place, taking in the destruction that surrounded him. His head tilted to the side and then his sharp eyes slid over to her.

  "What have you done?" His eyes darted around before he frowned.

  "Isn't it obvious?" She gave him a bright smile. She went far enough to bat her lashes at him, hoping to distract him with her charms.

  "Yes." He took a step towards her. "You destroyed our kitchen."

  "Please." She waved him off. "Stop being so dramatic."

  He reached into his pocket and whipped out his cellphone.

  "Who are you calling?" There definitely wasn't a police branch to report a food crime, right?

  "Xiong Hua," he replied, unlocking his screen.

  "No!" she lunged forward and grabbed the phone out of his hand. "Don't be ridiculous. This is just a little mess. Hardly noticeable at all."

  His brow rose. "There is food on the ceiling."

  Her eyes glanced up and then back to his. "Many kitchens have food on the ceiling. Did you know that?" she asked.

  "One. Only one," he responded bluntly.

  "Well, our kitchen is special!" She dropped his phone in her apron pocket.

  He took a step closer to her and she stepped back. His arm came down on either side of her, trapping her against the counter.

  "This is what a home-cooked meal looks like. Stop being a snob."

  "This is definitely not what a home-cooked meal looks like." His gaze roamed over the kitchen before returning to her.

  "You are so unappreciative," she huffed. "I slaved over the stove all day." Her eyes shot to the stove in question. "I even dressed up as a cute wife. A simple thank you would be nice."

  A small grin appeared on his face. "You want me to thank you for wrecking the kitchen?"

  "Cooking is an art form, Mr. Mo. You might see a wrecked kitchen, but to me, it is a creative explosion." At this point, she was making up bullshit to keep the banter going. She even managed to keep a straight face. They both knew she wrecked the kitchen.

  The place was a complete disaster, but she couldn't let him call Xiong Hua back to work. She wanted to be alone with him. She would call professional cleaners while he ate.

  "Creative explosion?" he repeated her words as though he couldn't have heard correctly.

  She nodded confidently.

  "You're a complete mess," he sighed as he wiped her cheek with his thumb.

  "A mess for you," she reminded him.

  "Oh. For me?"

  She rolled her eyes. "I did it for you. I put a lot of time, effort, and adoration into this meal. Do you think it was easy?"

  He leaned in really close. "You should be banned from all kitchens."

  "Really?" She challenged as her hands flattened on the counter behind her. He nodded with a pompous grin on his face.

  Her still stained hands shot up to his face, and she swirled her fingers around so fast that it wiped the grin right off his face.

  She couldn't stop giggling. He looked like a delightfully angry ghost. Even his eyebrows were white.

  He drew her in tight against him. "You think this is funny?"

  Her laughter answered his question. She could barely breathe. He grabbed her hand away from his face and pulled them behind her. Leaning forward, he arched her back over the counter.

  "How many kitchens have you destroyed?" he asked, his lips practically touching hers.

  "Just yours," she panted out, still catching her breath.

  The palm of his hand cradled the back of her head, which hung back so low that it almost touched the counter.

  Mo Qingchen lifted her face up to his and slowly kissed her like she was the most precious thing in the universe. His gentle side never failed to sweep her off her feet.

  They tasted like flour. It was somehow raw and sensual. Spontaneous. Her heart leaped in her chest. Mo Qingchen was in full control. Despite her fear of giving up control, she allowed and craved it with him.

  Only him.

  She craved it. She enjoyed tormenting him and his reactions delighted her to no bounds.

  Somehow, Qian Meng managed to lift her legs up and wrapped them around his waist. His free hand reached behind her and spread out across her lower back, holding her exactly where he wanted.

  Her hips went right to work. Like old times.

  His hard groan against her lips only spurred her on. Mo Qingchen's soft side left the building. He gripped her ponytail firmly and pulled it back, exposing her neck. Hot ragged breaths swept over Qian Meng's skin. She opened her eyes when she felt his hard stare on her.

  He really did look like a dragon at times. She had nothing else to possibly compare him to. She would give anything to know his thoughts in those moments.

  She swallowed deep. "Are you hungry?"

  His fiery eyes stayed on her. "Famished."

  Her hips ground against him one more time before she reluctantly lowered her legs to the floor. He did not seem happy about that. The frown on his face made her smile. She just couldn't help it.

  She adored every part of her. Even the one which went from a wild dragon to a pouty teenage boy.

  "Sorry to disappoint you, but I am not part of the meal." She slid out from under him and pulled her skirt down from around her waist. Prim and proper. Everything was about presentation.