Page 99 of Flawed

"There's nothing to discuss," she asserts.

I grunt. "Yes, there is, and you know it."

She turns toward the window and shakes her head in small movements.

A few more miles.

We say nothing else for the remainder of the ride. I pull into my parking garage and into the car lift. I hit the remote, and it rises to my private garage. I turn off the engine. My stomach dances with nerves.

She mutters, "You moved."

I don't respond, get out of the car, and open her door.

She defiantly stares at me.

I reach for her, warning, "You can walk, or I'll carry you."

Red flushes her cheeks. She ignores my hand and exits the vehicle, brushing past me toward the door.

I take a deep breath, follow her, and press my hand on the security pad. The lock pops, and I open the door, motioning for her to go inside.

She hesitates then enters the penthouse.

I step behind her, and the lock automatically bolts.

She spins. "Am I your captive?"

That's an idea.

Don't ever let her leave.

I answer, "I don't take women's freedom away from them."

She scoffs. "Sure you don't."

"What does that mean?" I ask, stepping closer.

She backs up until she hits the console table against the back of the couch. Her arms flail, and she tries to grab the wood.

I grip her waist and steady her. "Care to tell me what you meant?"

Defiance lights up her features, but she also has a hint of red in her eyes. "Forget I said it."

My gut sends me mixed signals about whether to push her about it or not. I finally decide to table it for now, asking, "Do you want some water?"

She nervously laughs. "You aren't going to offer me a drink?"

I peer closer, replying, "Do you need another one?"

"Excuse me?"

"You probably drank an entire bottle of champagne," I point out.

She gapes at me then pushes my chest. She hurls, "Were you watching me all night?"

"Yes," I answer, holding her tighter to my body.

She inhales sharply. The flames in her eyes ignite brighter. She glances at my lips then swallows hard, fuming, "Are you the alcohol police?"