“This is what I wanted to wear,” I add, unable to help myself from filling in the silence. “I knew itwould piss you off the most.”
“Piss me off?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. “I’m not angry. Maybe I would be if you tried walkinginto that restaurant dressed as you are now. But that’s not going to happen.”
“Great. Then take me back home.”
I frown. Where’s he going with this? “You can’t make me change clothes,” I point out.
The moment the words are out of my mouth, I realize their futility. Of course he can make me. He’s aman who’s built his reputation on making people do things they don’t want to do.
I’m just his latest target.
I don’t even have time to be frightened of what happens next, because I don’t even really see itcoming. I glimpse only a gleam of ivory and si
