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I lift her hand and press my mouth against her knuckles. Her expression changes instantly. The humor disappears. So does mine.

"Adrianos."

I know that tone.

"Yes?"

She studies our joined hands. "About what I said earlier."

There it is.

I could make this easier for her.

I have no intention of doing that.

"Which part?"

Her eyes narrow. "You know exactly which part."

"I want to hear you say it."

"Then you're going to be disappointed."

I stand.

Her gaze follows me as I move around the table.

"You already said it."

"I was angry."

"People usually become more honest when they're angry."

"That's scientifically questionable."

"You're avoiding the subject."

"Very observant."

I stop in front of her.

She tilts her head back.

For a moment, neither of us speaks.

There are things I've wanted from women before. Their bodies. Their loyalty. Their silence. Sometimes their company.

I've never stood in front of one and wanted a word.

But I want this one.

I want it badly enough that I don't trust myself with it.

"Is that what you're doing?" I ask again.

Her expression softens.

"Maybe."