DEMETRIA

“A date?” I asked, arms folded, pinning him with a stare.

“Yes. Wildfire. A date.” His lips curved into a smile, and damn it, my pussy reacted before my brain could catch up. I shook my head hard.

“If you think you’re going to blackmail me now that the gala’s a go, just to make me go out with you, then I’ll decline, Marion.” My words came out clipped, sharp.

“And why would I do that?” He tilted his head, a smirk carved on his mouth like it belonged there.

I ...