Page 8 of Whatever He Wants
“At least he doesn’t try to control me,” I retort.“He loves and accepts me for who I am.”
He makes a sound of derision.
“That’s cute.Let’s hope his love and acceptance keeps you warm while you’re living on the street this winter.”
Appalled by Isaac’s callousness, I don’t know how to respond.We stare at each other in the oppressive silence.His maturity always impressed me, but the way he’s blowing this situation out of proportion disappoints me.
Matt did something terrible, but it’s not as if the watch is gone forever.There’s still hope for Isaac to recover it.For him to treat me this way over jewellery is awful.It feels worse than when my dad told me that if I left his house to be with Matt, don’t come back.
Isaac turns to leave and I almost let him go.Panic animates me, and I grab his arm again.He glares at me and clenches his fist until his flesh is hard muscle under my fingers.A silent demand I release him.I tighten my grip, and even hold on with both hands.My towel starts to come untucked.
“Let me go, Denise,” he says in a stern voice.
Desperation smothers my dignity, pushing words out of my mouth before I can think them through.
“Please, Isaac.Please.Let us stay.I’ll do anything you want if you let us keep this apartment.”
My promise hangs between us, thickening the silence.Isaac’s resistance fades.When he slides his gaze down my body then up again, the burning anger in his eyes is gone too, something else alive in their blue depths.
“Anything?”
His voice is too soft, too casual, especially after his blatant once-over.Am I misreading the energy here?I don’t think so, and it’s too shocking what that means.I release his arm as if it’s suddenly too hot and give him a wary look.
“Depends on what it is.”
Isaac steps closer, and I retreat until he grabs my waist and turns me, pinning me against the fridge.My towel comes fully untucked and I clutch it before it falls.
“You can’t say you’ll doanything,then turn around and have conditions,” he says, his voice silky.“If you want to stay, you’ll pay my price.”
“What’s your price?”
He releases me and takes a step back.
“Let go of your towel.”
6
Denise
The worst I could ever say about Isaac is that he’s reserved, sometimes even cold.But he has a sense of humour he lets out once in a while, so maybe this is one of those moments.After all, he’s never been inappropriate with me.I wait for him to smile, or any hint of amusement in his expression.
Nothing changes.
He’s serious about this.
I shake my head in disbelief and as an answer to his outrageous request.
“Isaac, you can’t—that’s not what I was offering!When I saidanything you want, I meant like cleaning or—or helping with errands.Regular stuff!”
“I already have a housekeeper, and I can handle all my errands.”
“Is there nothing else I can do for you?”
“You can let me see what’s under your towel.”
I tremble, my grip tightening on the soft cotton, my voice high and quavering.
“I’m not OK with you seeing me naked!”
