Ignatius Leclair felt stifled; it had been more than half a month, and every time she either avoided him or didn't spare him a glance. Delphine Carter probably couldn't even remember what he looked like.
"No," the man choked out the word from his throat, cold and through gritted teeth.
"Then what do you really want?" Delphine's breathing became uneven, the familiar pine scent mixed with masculine pheromones on him made her hair stand on end.
"Return to how we used to be: you can have me do what you want, and you know what I want." Ignatius lowered his voice, speaking seductively.
It's often said that couples fight in bed only to reconcile in the end; he didn't believe he couldn't win this woman back.
Delphine's body tensed, and she licked her dry lips. Seeing Ignatius tense up suddenly, his Adam's apple bobbed once, she narrowed her glistening almond eyes, leaned closer to him, and stated word by word, "In your dreams."
