Leo senses it. He presses my knees apart gently with his, then stands close enough to me that our breath mingles in the air.
If I do it, I’m submitting. If I don’t, I’m proving his point. Either way, I lose. So I just gaze into his eyes and try to remove any and all emotion from my own.
He studies me curiously. There’s no softness on his face today. On its own, the color of his irises are gorgeous and vibrant. They remind me of autumn—amber and burnt orange and almost melancholy, in the strangest way.
But they’re filled with inner depths that I can’t seem to reach.
When his hand strokes up my bare arm, I gasp. The electricity pulsing through me from just his touch alone takes me by surprise.
“You need to master your reactions if you’re going to lie like that.”
I rip away from him and
