The words slip out of my mouth before I can stop them. His eyes widen instantly, but the fight in hisexpression doesn’t back down. Not by a long shot.
There’s something he wants from me.
And he hasn’t got it yet.
“You think I’m charming, is that it?”
“Thought,” I repeat vehemently. “I used the past tense, meaning I definitely no longer hold thatopinion of you. And just FYI, this is what I thought six years ago, before I knew who you were. Whoyou really were.”
“And who is that?” he asks. He hasn’t budged from where he’s standing just inches away from me,hands still planted on either side of my face. He hasn’t stopped smirking that f*****g smirk. He hasn’tstopped being totally and completely Isaak Vorobev.
“Honestly,” I say, “you are the cockiest, most arrogant man I’ve
