She was frowning at the phone, pale light making her skin look even whiter than usual, like ivory and snow. Like a queen. He beat back the sudden instinct to inject her with the venom that would make her immortal. How could he even consider? He wouldn’t do that to her.
“It isn’t about the coat,” she said, reminding him effectively that Hathor was still angry with him.
“My suggestion that you cover yourself more appropriately?” he asked.
“Getting warmer.”
Getting warmer? Was that good, then?
“Go ahead and get on the highway here,” she said. “How are we on gas?”
“I can read a gas gauge.”
“I was just checking. You don’t have to get angry about it.”
“I’m not angry,” he said, beginning to feel a little angry.
She set the phone aside and stared out the windshield for a time. He didn’t like the sudden silence between them, would rather she yelled at him.
“Here’s the thing,” she said finally. “We need to establish some boundaries. This is a temporary arrangement. You don’t get to decide how I dress.” Porcelain skin darkened to rose. “Or anything else for that matter.”
“Boundaries?” As in stone walls, or even barbed wire? He was a vampire. No walls could survive him.
“Habibti, we’ve been together for nearly twenty-four hours. I have tasted you once, kissed you twice, and very nearly bedded you. So far, we seem to be heading down an entirely different path.”
“And it needs to stop.”
“You’re not safe,” he reminded her.
“Which is why I’m with you.” She made a face. “Not that you’re safe, but it sure beats the alternative.”
“Me, or my son bent on revenge. It must be a hard decision for you.”
“I’m still considering.”
Darcy Branwyn 
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