“Why change something I’m comfortable with? You of all people should understand that.”
She turns away and studies the scene outside, leaving me to disguise a small chuckle behind my usual blank facade.
The car moves off, and she pointedly ignores me, which is good as it happens because I’m not interested in hearing what a prick I am.
As we join the traffic outside the airfield, she shivers beside me.
“Why is it so cold here?”
I note her summer dress and the way her chestnut-colored hair dusts her shoulders, the slight curl giving it bounce. Her huge green eyes appear heightened by the makeup she is wearing, and the dash of perfume is pleasant.
“Because it’s England and still winter.”
The fact I’m wearing an overcoat should tell her that, and she shivers beside me.
“Can you turn up the heating, please?”
“It is the required temperature.”
“You really are an asshole.”
Her anger is not undeserved, but I couldn’t give a fuck. She is not my concern. I didn’t ask her to change; only her vanity decided that, and she must live with the consequences.
I study the texts raining down on my phone, mainly concerning business, only one from my father requiring immediate attention.
Was your journey satisfactory?
With a sigh, I answer his enquiry.
As planned. I’m heading home now.
Home. I should have replaced that word with hell because it’s as if I live there twenty-four seven.
I’ve been away too long; I’m on edge and only my usual routine can soothe my troubled soul.
I’m surprised when Tiffany shifts closer, and I glance in her direction and note her teeth chattering.
Goosebumps are raised on her arms, and her bare legs are turning blue.
I don’t hesitate and rap on the partition between us and the driver.
“Turn the heat up.”
Then I shrug out of my coat and wrap it around her, noting the grateful spark enter her eyes as she nods her thanks.
“You need clothes. I’ll arrange it.”
“You’ll arrange it. Why can’t I?”
I resist rolling my eyes. Of course she’s still sniping at me.
“Because I like to control, Tiffany, and like it or not, you will wear what I want you to wear.”
Her mouth drops open, and her stunned expression is much deserved before she finds her voice.
“I really am your prisoner then.”
I say nothing, and she shakes her head.
