Page 76 of Marrying the Savage

“You’ve never seen my scarves.”

The corner of his mouth moves, and I feel an absurd burst of triumph.

Then he takes out his phone.

My smile fades. “What are you doing?”

He taps the screen and brings it to his ear.

I sit up. “Damir.”

He ignores me. Of course he does.

A moment later, someone answers, and he says, “Have a piano brought to the house.”

My mouth drops open.

He looks at me while he says it. “A proper one. Not decorative. Speak to Kirill; he knows dealers.”

I stand so fast the chair scrapes behind me. “Are you insane?”

He continues, “And send someone for yarn. Needles. Whatever is required for knitting.”

“Whatever is required for knitting?” I repeat, offended despite myself.

His eyes remain on mine. “No pink,” he says into the phone after a second, then pauses. “Actually, bring pink too. She looks angry enough to hate it.”

I point at him. “Hang up.”

He does not.

“Today,” he says, then ends the call.

For a moment, the room is silent. I stare at him as he returns the phone to his pocket.

“You are unbelievable,” I say.

“You said piano and knitting.”

“I was joking.”

“I know.”

“Then why are you bringing them here?”

“Because you said them.”

“That is not a reason.”

“It is in my house.”

I let out a laugh, but it has no humor. “You are going to be very disappointed when I tell you I also trained in arson.”

His gaze moves over me slowly. “I will inform security.”

“I hate you.”

“No,” he says, reaching for the coffee pot. “You are angry with me.”