I walk toward him slowly. “I think you want to own everything you touch. Even people. Especially people.”
He takes a step toward me; the kind of movement that makes my heart skip a beat. I’m trying to be all tough, but one look from him is enough to make me feel like I’m about to melt.
“Careful, Gabriella. I know you’ve had a difficult day, but there’s a manner in which I won’t be spoken to. You’re dangerously close to crossing that line.”
“No. You don’t get tocarefulme. Not today. You don’t get to order me into your home, critique my work, and then?—”
“Then what?”
It’s a damn good question. Then what? What am I so mad at him about? Heat rushes up my neck. “Then pretend you didn’t just let Ruth O’Donnell insult me while you stood there like a statue.”
The air shifts. His jaw tightens. “You think I didn’t handle Ruth?” His voice drops, quiet, lethal.
I glare at him. “By doing what, exactly? Letting her only flirt with you for thirty minutes instead of a full hour?” I hate the insecurity evident in my tone. But at the same time, I don’t care.
He steps closer. “No. She learned what line she stepped over. And she learned that there would be a price to pay if she stepped over it again.”
I blink. “What?”
“Don’t mistake silence for inaction,” he says softly. His tone is rough, personal, protective in a way that makes my heart skip.
I shake my head, trying to clear it. “You’re impossible.”
He’s closer now—too close, the scent of him curling around me like smoke. “And you’re still here.”
I snort, my heart pounding. “Not like I have a choice.”
He tilts his head, studying me like he’s mentally dissecting a problem. “You have a choice. You’re not a prisoner here, Gabriella. If you desire it, you can leave whenever you wish.” He steps closer, the air crackling between us. “But you’re not going to leave, are you?”
It takes all the strength I have, but I manage to turn away. I manage one step before stopping. He follows, closing the distance between us.
“You’re angry,” he says behind me.
“Brilliant deduction.”
“Good.”
I’m confused. “Good?”
“Anger’s honest. You hide yourself with calm.”
I spin around, my eyes flashing. “You really think you see everything, don’t you?”
“I see enough.”
“Then tell me what you see right now.”
He looks at me for a long moment, and I hate the way it makes me feel. “I see a woman who wants to run, but who also wants me to stop her.”
My pussy clenches. “You’re full of yourself.”
“Probably.” He steps closer. There’s almost no space between us now. “But tell me I’m wrong.”
I want to. God, I want to. But the words stick in my throat. He reaches up, brushing a loose strand of hair behind myear. His fingers graze my skin, light but scorching at the same time.
“You don’t belong in my world, Gabriella,” he murmurs. “But you don’t want to leave it.”
I lift my chin, defiant even as my heart pounds. “Maybe I’m just not afraid of you anymore.”
