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He takes a drink, considering me.

“I brought you here,” he says, voice thick, “because if I took you home, the night ended.”

My chest tightens. “Which it should have.”

“Really.” He sets his glass on a side table next to the armchair. “Do you regret it?”

He steps closer, but not enough to touch me.

“Didn’t you enjoy the chase, Sera? The way your heart raced. The way your skin burned.”

I swallow hard, unable to deny it.

“I know what waits for me,” he continues. “I know what my father expects. What Eilish is supposed to be to me. And you came on my dick knowing all of that too. You like the danger, little wild thing. Admit it."

“No.”

“No?” he repeats.

"No, I won't admit anything."

He smirks. "Good answer."

“So, what happens tomorrow?” I ask folding my arms over my chest.

His eyes hold mine in the candlelight.

“Tomorrow, you’ll go back to pretending you hate me.”

“And you?”

He looks past me, shadows flickering over his face, and the answer comes too easily.

“I’ll find another excuse to see you again.”

The pulse in my neck goes wild.

“I should go now.” I lean down, scoop up my boots, then sidestep him and head for the drawing-room door. "Could ya drop me back to Black Heath. I’ll get a taxi home from there.”

“No.”

I stop with my hand halfway to the door. “No?”

“No.”

My spine stiffens, and I turn back to face him. “Excuse me?”

“You're not getting in a taxi at this time of night.”

“Oh my god.” I sigh. “I don’t need to ask for your permission.”

“And it's still a no.”

I narrow my eyes as he crosses the room and stops in front of me, so we're toe to toe.

“You’re staying here,” he announces.

A burst of laughter breaks out of me. “Am I fuck.”