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He knows I’m trying to escape.
“I’m just tired, I guess.” I let him push me down on the edge of the bed. The unzipped back of my dress opens even wider. Cool air skirts across my exposed skin all the way to the very top of my butt. If I wasn’t currently trying to play off the fact that I just panic-ordered two tickets to Mexico, I’d be worried about plumber’s crack.
Timofey opens the wine bottle more gracefully than I’ve ever done anything in my life and pours us each a glass.
“I asked for water,” I say, even as I take the offered glass.
“Your inability to know what’s best for yourself continues.”
He sits at the top of the bed and leans back against the headboard. He looks every bit as confident as he sounds. I want to believe it’s an act, but no one could pull off this level of conviction for this long without slipping.
Timofey really believes he knows everything.
Though if he does know literally everything, he’s doing a good job of pretending he doesn’t know about the plane tickets.
Hell, maybe he doesn’t. Maybe for the first time ever, I’ll pull one over on him.
And maybe pigs will fly.
“You’re saying I don’t even know what I want to drink?” I shake my head and take a sip. “It’s a miracle I’ve survived this long.”
“My thoughts exactly.”
I purse my lips. “I was being sarcastic.”
“I wasn’t.” He lets his head rest against the tall wooden headboard. His throat bobs as he swallows. “You aren’t tired; you’re anxious. You need to relax. That’s what the wine is for.”
I make a show of tapping a finger against my chin as if deep in thought. “Here I thought the forced, naked fashion show would have been relaxing for me. How bizarre.”
“The sarcasm is getting old, Piper.”
“Fine. I’ll go for honesty then.” I turn to face him, eyes wide open. “Changing in front of you makes me nervous. I felt vulnerable and uncomfortable. Hence the trembling.”
“I don’t know why that would be the case.”
“You don’t know—” I stop and shake my head. “Of course you don’t get it. You probably love being naked in front of people. Why wouldn’t you love showing everyone your twelve-pack, cheese grater abs? When you could be on the cover of a men’s fitness magazine, there isn’t really much to be stressed about.”
He twirls his glass absently, immune to both my vulnerable feelings and my assessment of his undeniable good looks. It’s annoying that I can’t seem to ruffle him the same way he ruffles me.
“I’ve seen the whole spectrum of what human bodies are capable of—the sexual and the vile alike.”
“Charming.”
“If you’re worried you’ve somehow made it to the vile end of the spectrum, rest easy. I’ve seen the inside of a human skull while its heart was still pumping blood. Your naked body doesn’t compare.”
I blink at him a few times, waiting for the punchline or the “gotcha!” moment. It doesn’t come.
“If that was supposed to make me feel better, you need to work on your bedside manner.”
He arches an eyebrow. “Don’t forget, Piper: you were naked earlier. I know exactly how well my ‘bedside manner’ was working.”
He glances down at my chest, which is thankfully covered by the dress I’m half-wearing. Still, I feel my nipples pebble again at the mere suggestion that Timofey is talking about them.
Traitors.
“I could care less what you think of my body,” I lie. “I’m more concerned with the kind of graphic things you’ve seen the human body do.”
“You’d be scarred for life if I told you everything I’ve seen.”
