(Isabella)
I f.orced myself to meet his gaze even though every part of me wanted to look away.
A cool rage seemed to settle over him but he c.ocked an eyebrow and took my wine glass, pouring himself a glass of my wine and swirled it, studying it.
“No.” He said and stood up.
Did I fight through the shock and confusion. No?
“Sit down, if you leave here we won’t talk ever again.” Something in my voice must have resonated with him because he resumed his position, his knuckles turning white as he grabbed the sides of the table.
“Let’s go home and talk there,”
“No,” I violently shook my head, I had to do this now or I never would, “We talk here.”
“Bella,” He sighed, exasperated, “You really want to have another one of your tantrums, in public?” He smiled,
Rage flickered through me and I
