Grayson's words hung in the air between them, the command unmistakable. The evidence of his arousal pressed against her hip, and his hand at her waist held her firmly in place. There was no mistaking his meaning now.
He knew. He'd figured it out.
"I—" She tried to straighten, but Grayson's hand at her waist held her in place, not forcefully, but with enough pressure to make his point.
Honey froze; her breath caught in her throat as reality crashed down around her. The box with her shoes hadn't been from Madam V at all. Grayson had left them there, setting a trap she'd walked straight into.
"How long have you known?" she whispered, not turning to face him.
His fingers tightened at her waist, not painfully but with clear intention. "Since last night. Nate brought me the file from the in
