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“Yes, you can,” he said in a low voice.
“I, um . . . but I don’t have anything to wear.”
“That’s fine.” He drew his credit card from his drawer and placed it on the desk.
Was this really happening right now?
“Take this. Buy what you need. A new dress. Coat. Shoes. Whatever.”
“I can’t do that.”
He sighed and she winced.
“Baby, you belong to me. I’m trying to take things slow with you, but you have to stop fighting me.”
This was him taking it slow? What the heck would he do if he was going fast?
Somehow, I don’t think you want to know.
For once, that voice in her head was being smart.
“Slow?”
“Yes, I am being remarkably restrained. Don’t push me.”
Yeah, that sounded like a terrible idea.
She shook out her hands, knowing they were trembling.
“It just doesn’t feel right to spend your money.”
“I have plenty of it. You won’t put much of a dent in it.”
“Oh yeah? What if I go buy myself a Mustang convertible?”
“Well, one, the bank would probably call me before approving that. Two, it would mean you wouldn’t sit for a week.”
“For spending that much money?”
That was fair. The thought of it made her queasy.
“For buying an unsafe car. You’re not allowed a convertible. They’re ridiculous cars that would do nothing to protect you. I want to say I’d buy you something safer, but actually, I would prefer you use my driver. I know he’s a good driver and will keep you safe. I haven’t seen your driving, but something tells me it would be . . . erratic.”
Had she just been insulted?
Yeah, she was pretty certain she had been.
“I’m actually a fantastic driver.”
And wait? His driver? She hadn’t known he had a driver, she’d thought that he was just used a service.
“You might be. But you’re not as good as Steven. He’s been driving in the city for years. Have you?”
No.
But she didn’t want to answer.
“Just as I thought. So it’s agreed that when you need to go somewhere, you will call Steven.”
