“Sit,” I say, nodding toward the couch.
“I’d rather stand.”
“I wasn’t asking.”
We stare at each other for several long seconds before she finally drops into the seat with a huff, legs crossed tight, and arms folded.
“I had my team leave a folder on the desk,” I say, gesturing toward it. “Contract’s inside. You can go over it tomorrow morning. I’ll pick you up for brunch.”
She doesn’t look at the folder. She stares at me.
“You’re serious about this?” she asks quietly. “About the baby thing?”
“Yes.”
She exhales sharply. “You don’t even like me.”
“When did I ever say that?”
With a shake of her head, she averts her gaze toward the other side of the room. “Anything else, or are you done?”
“Ten o’clock work for you?”
“I work.”
“You have the day off tomorrow.”
Her expression turns murderous when she flicks her focus back to me. “Stalking, too, huh?”
“Your friend, Lucy, has a big mouth.”
“And you have a big head.”
“Which one?” She blushes furiously and looks away again. “There’s a hot bath already drawn up for you. I hope you like lavender. I guessed.”
“You expect me to relax while I’m basically your hostage?”
“I expect you to sleep more than four hours tonight.”
Her lips press into a hard line as I cross the room slowly, step by step, until I’m close enough to smell her.
Coffee.
Frustration.
A hint of fear, though she’d never admit it. I reach out, brush a piece of hair from her cheek.
“You’re angry,” I say quietly. “I get it. You’ve had a shit day. You’re stuck in a situation you didn’t ask for.” She stares up at me, her throat bobbing. “But you’re still mine. I don’t want to hurt you, Sienna. I really don’t. So stop making me chase you.”
“You’re not chasing,” she whispers. “You’re hunting.”
I pause.
Maybe she’s right.
Still, I lower my hand and step back.
“The bath’s ready. Take it. Then go to bed.”
