“This room is now off limits,” He whispers close to my ear, “It’s my bedroom or nothing at all.”
“I’d rather sleep in the stables,” I grumble stubbornly.
“That’s not what it looked like last night,” He drawls.
“I was drunk,” I hit back, “Drunk me and sober me are not the same person.”
“Get back in that bedroom,” He orders.
“No.”
“Olivia.”
“Malakai.”
I can hear his teeth grinding together, “Your dentist must hate you with all that grinding.” I point out, “Maybe you should get some of those guards or something.”
“You are the most irritating woman I have ever met.”
“Aw,” I pout and look over my shoulder, fluttering my lashes at him, “Thank you.”
His gaze narrows before he drops it to my lips and it’s right about now, I’m going to nope the fuck out of there. I slip under his arm and bolt back into his bedroom, slamming the door before he can get inside, twisting the lock to keep him out.
His fist slams into it. “Olivia!” He roars.
“Yes, Malakai?” I call, heading to the closet.
“Open this fucking door, right now!”
“Sorry, I can’t hear you.” I pull some clothes from the racks inside our shared closet, choosing some leggings, an oversized sweater and a pair of knee-high socks since it looks like it’s going to snow today. A frost covers the ground, and the sky tumbles with grey clouds.
“Olivia!” He yells, pounding his fists hard.
I roll my eyes; he’s beingverydramatic.
I strip out of my PJs, throwing them onto the bed and reach for the underwear I got out at the same time when I hear the wood of the door splinter, a cracking sound that zaps awareness down my spine. If he gets through that door…
“Shit,” I hiss, rushing to get my underwear on. I hop on one foot as I drag the leggings up my legs and shove my head through the hole in the sweater. I’m out of breath as I tug my long hair into a messy bun and then I’m rushing to the door.
And breathe…
I unlock it and throw it open, “If you wanted in,” Isay sweetly, “All you had to do was ask nicely.”
I pat his chest condescendingly as I saunter down the hall away from him. I can feel his glare boring into my spine and knew I’d find burning anger etched into his face if I were to look back.
Poking the bear probably isn’t the wisest idea but getting him riled up and out of control gives me a thrill. Payback, I like to think of it as. Getting some of my own control back.
I find Louis in the kitchen when I make it downstairs, cooking up something that smells good for my neglected stomach.
“You’re like an angel,” I whisper, drifting towards him.
“Mrs. Farrow,” He beams at me, “Good morning.”
“Well, youwerelike an angel,” I pout, “Why did you have to go and say that for?”
His brows tug in confusion, “Sorry?”
I wave my hand, “Don’t worry, do you know where the painkillers are?” I ask.
