Page 107 of Twisted Knight

“This is not the way to win a date with me.”

“No?”

“No.”

“That’s okay because I don’t want a date with you.”

“You did the other day.” The elevator day. The moments that live rent free in my head.

“And now I don’t. I’m fickle like that.”

My laugh is a chortle of disbelief. This man is … exasperating. Amusing. Unpredictable. Consuming. “Why would you buy these for someone you barely even know?” I ask.

“Barely know?” His chuckle is a deep rumble. “I’m pretty sure I know more about you than most.”

“That’s not what I mean.” I huff in frustration. “I mean—”

“For the same reason I’m buying TinSpirits. Because I want to.”

This conversation is getting nowhere. I’ll find a way to give them back to him. To return them.

“What does your note mean? ‘Maybe it’s time to change the dress’?” I ask the question but I’m pretty sure I already know.

“That’s for you to figure out.”

Time to step into a new role.

Time to agree to partner up with him.

Time to be the woman I am to him to everyone freaking else.

“I can’t accept these,” I repeat for what feels like the tenth time.

“You can and you will.”

“No, it’s not right. It feels dirty.”

“I thought you liked dirty.”

“You’re not playing fair.”

“I never do, and Rowan, don’t get any ideas about how to give them back to me. If I find them in my desk somewhere, if you somehow become a mind reader and figure out where I bought them to return them, if, if, if … then I’ll give them back to you at the Monday morning managers meeting in front of everyone. That sure as shit would cause a lot of rumors to fly.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

His laugh says he’d do exactly that. “Now accept them like a good girl, Rowan, and say thank you.”

I refuse to obey him this time. To do what he says. And as much as I should thank him, as much as the manners ingrained in me know that I should, I don’t out of principle.

Silence smothers the line, a battle of wills waging between us.

“Sometimes I do nice things.” Holden’s voice is low. Even. Mesmerizing. “It’s a rarity so take it for what it is. A gift. A reminder that some people look at you and see strength. Power. A force to be reckoned with. Enjoy the rest of your night.”

The call ends on those poignant words. Words that replay in my mind over and over as I stare at sparkling diamonds and sapphires.

How did this happen?

How did I begin to like Holden Knight—well, more than like him—when every single part of me should hate him?