"So you won't take me with you?" Zyran asked, lower lip poked out in a perfect pout, eyes wide like some innocent child begging not to be left behind. His tone, of course, was dipped in mockery, and he even went so far as to press his palms together in front of his chest. "You'd leave me all alone, little temptress?"
Isabella stared at him like he'd just declared himself a lost puppy. Her eye twitched. Then twitched again. If she stayed any longer, she was going to scream.
"You're not a stray dog!" she snapped.
"But I could be," Zyran said, dragging his voice into a melodramatic whine. "A very lonely, very dangerous, very sexy stray…"
"Gods, I need a drink," she muttered, rubbing her temple like she was fighting the world's worst migraine.
