I clenched my jaw at Kira's sarcastic response, but had to concede that she was right. We'd been rude to her. I was in a shitty mood. But she hadn't really done anything wrong. I didn't like her . . . or rather, I didn't like her type, and her existence in my home was a blatant reminder of the many ways I'd failed. But that didn't mean I couldn't be civil. She was also presenting a way out. I wouldn't act like she was doing me a huge favor despite the money, though. And I wouldn't pretend I liked this situation—or that we weren't partners in this distasteful business deal. We were both making a sacrifice here. She was handing over what amounted to a lot of money to me, but she was going to be disrupting my life for the next few months, the next year, maybe longer when it came to taxes, seeing her name on forms for the rest of my life . . . But, we'd be civil business associates. She’d been all right so far. I'd even had a little fun earlier with the whole gardener's cottage thing. Which, come to remember, she hadn't brought up yet.
"We should discuss—"
"The fact that you're the offspring of a fire-breathing lizard? I already figured that out."
Charlotte snorted from the kitchen but covered it up with the bang of a pot.
"Listen, Kira—"
"No, you listen, Grayson." More hair fell to frame her face as she banged her little fist down on the table and glared at me, her witchy eyes flashing again, heating my blood, much to my own dismay. "I'm making you a very generous offer here. If this is going to work, I refuse to let you treat me as you've done so far. I can assure you that, with your credentials, you won't get a better offer than mine. Keep treating me like you of all people have the right to look down on me, and I'll leave and take my inheritance with me."
Anger raced through my blood, and I banged my own fist on the table. I had the satisfaction of seeing Kira jump slightly. "If this is going to work, I won't be treated like you're taking pity on me and I'm not making as much of a sacrifice as you are," I gritted out. "Do you think I have any desire whatsoever to marry you or anyone else?"
"No, I'd imagine you're about as capable of monogamy as a junkyard dog. Not that that has anything at all to do with me."
As if from a great distance, I heard Charlotte cough again.
I narrowed my eyes to slits. "Exactly. Do you think I'd be doing this if I weren't utterly desperate and if you weren't my Very. Last. Option? So, throw the money in my face if you will, but don't act like you don't need me, too. Don't act like you're not just as desperate as I am. And don't act like I'm not your best and only prospect. You said it yourself. For someone who came here begging, you'd be wise to treat me with some respect."
Her cheeks flared with even more color. "Begging?" she hissed. "Begging?" Heavy cascades of dark fire fell around her face as her hair came completely loose from whatever she'd been using to hold it back. I almost sucked in a breath. I hadn't realized she had so much of it. It surrounded her face and swung around her shoulders, looking as if it went halfway down her back.
She stood up slowly and I did, too, until we were both glaring at each other across the expanse of the kitchen table. The air between us crackled with . . . something, the heat in the air practically shimmering. And strangely, that tingling heat was now dancing through my blood in a full-blown performance much like the African welcome dance Kira had described, making me feel vitally . . . alive.
"I was crazy to come here. This," she waved between us, "is crazy. It'll never work. We should call it off. I could find someone else to marry. I can't imagine why I chose you. I find you . . . exceedingly difficult to like."
"I agree. It's ridiculous. And vice versa."
"Good. It's off," she hissed.
"Good," I growled. We stared each other down, her eyes dancing with angry fire. And why the hell did I like that so much? After several tense, heated moments, I made a conscious effort to control my breathing, raising an eyebrow at her. "And by the way, next time you offer to marry someone, you should try to be a little more meek. A man likes some obedience in a wife."
More fire glowed in her eyes and another undeniable thrill shot down my spine. "Charlotte," she suddenly said very sweetly. "Do you have a pen and paper I could borrow?"
"Oh yes," Charlotte said, grabbing a pen and pad of paper out of the junk drawer and practically running it over to Kira, as if she were suddenly at her beck and call.
I watched Kira closely, waiting to see what she would do next.
Kira smiled politely at Charlotte and then uncapped the pen carefully, putting it on the end with deliberate slowness, and then holding the pad of paper up, the pen poised before it. "What was that now? I want to make sure I get every single word of wise advice," she said, stretching out the word every. "Meek, was it? Does that have double e or is it ea? I can never remember."