William stared straight into her eyes, a mocking smirk tugging at his lips. “I’m curious, Elsie. What’s your limit when it comes to compromising for another man? Just a kiss? Sharing a bed? Or refusing to divorce?”
Elsie clenched her teeth, humiliated, her fingers tightening around the fork. “William!”
“What? You gonna stab me with your little pitchfork?” he sneered, wrapping his hand around hers and turning the sharp end of the fork toward his chest. “Go on, jab me. Put three holes in me—maybe you’ll find my name carved inside.”
Frustration simmered beneath his skin. No matter what he did—being nice, going tough—she wouldn’t give him the time of day. Just sharing a meal with him seemed like the biggest insult.
In her eyes, he was worth less than a stranger.
“…Psycho.” Els
