Page 37 of Boxed In

Or was he kidding himself? Like, how was she going to react when she found out Decorah Security had planted him in the computer repair job—and that he’d caused a lot of the computer problems?

You should have thought of that before you did it, the warrior commented.

Shut up.

Unable to deal with Olivia or the warrior, he wandered into the dining room, then the living room and the den.

Are these people rich? Zabastian asked after Luke had explained the large, flat TV screen.

No.

But this house is big. How many people live here?

Two.

I think twenty people could live here comfortably.

Not by current American standards.

You waste resources.

Probably.

He stopped beside the fireplace.

You keep this house warm with fire?

It’s just for . . . ambiance.

The warrior snorted and picked up a cut glass pitcher sitting on one of the side shelves. And the rooms are filled with valuable items. Zabastian hefted the pitcher in his hand, then replaced it on the shelf.

They inherited some antiques from Ginny’s mother.

They have many things here that they do not need.

They don’t need your critique.

The aroma of well-seasoned stew reached him, and he turned back to the kitchen where Olivia was spooning the food into bowls. She’d automatically taken the woman’s role, and he wished he’d thought to heat the food himself.

Why? the warrior asked.

Because I don’t want her doing all the domestic work.

Women are made for that. And for making love.

Like I said, we treat them as equal partners. They’re bankers, senators, doctors, lawyers.

Zabastian made a rough sound.

“What?” Olivia asked.

“Nothing. I was having a little exchange with my inner warrior.”

“About what?”

“Modern mores.”

She gave him a considering look. “He’s still commenting on sex roles?”

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