Page 63 of Gloves Off

“I don’t care what you wear,” he finally says with disinterest like I’m one of his teammates. “You’re about as attractive to me as a sack of potatoes.”

My mouth parts in shock, and I let out a dry laugh. “A sack of potatoes.”

Ouch. Really?

His gaze skims over my body, and his expression remains hard as he turns back to his e-reader. “Sorry to break it to you.”

My instincts say he’s lying. Is he embarrassed about finding me attractive, or is he telling the truth?

My skin prickles with that competitive feeling again, like I want to fuck with him. I was going to put my pride aside and ask to borrow a T-shirt, but now I’m going to shove his words in his face, make him choke on them.

“Well, if I’m just a sack of potatoes,” I say lightly, “then I guess there’s no issue.”

“That’s what I said.”

With my back to him, I pull out the blue Agent Provocateur set. It’s see-through. Am I actually doing this? I’m playing with fire, but hedidcall me a sack of potatoes and Iamwildly competitive. Petty, too.

I’m about to head to the washroom to change when I stop.Declaration of war,the yellow flowers meant, and I’m ready to retaliate.

My expression turns innocent. “You don’t mind if I change in the room, right?”

God, I’m evil.

His gaze stays glued to his e-reader but his jaw flexes. “Doesn’t matter to me.”

“It’s just that the humidity in the bathroom is going to mess with my hair.” I unzip my dress.

“I said itdoesn’t matter to me.”

“Good.” I slide my dress off, now standing in front of him in just my bra and panties. My heart thuds. He still isn’t looking at me. “I’m so relieved.”

I’ve never done something like this, taunt a man like this, but around Alexei Volkov, I’m not myself.

I turn to give him my back and unhook my bra. My skin prickles. Is he watching? I don’t dare turn around. Slowly, I slide my panties down, bare-ass naked, heart hammering, adrenaline howling through me.

My instincts scream to sprint into the washroom and cover myself in a towel, but I put the set on as slowly as I can, dragging this out.

I take one steadying breath before turning around, and I’m about to freak out that Volkov can see my nipples through the sheer fabric, but his eyes flick to my body and stay there. He doesn’t look like he’s breathing.

“Something wrong?” My voice is light and casual, but I’m sure my eyes glow with feminine rage and revenge.

He’s still staring. “No.”

“Good.” I wander to my side of the bed and settle on top of the duvet, his eyes on me the entire time.

Sack of potatoes, myass. Take that, you fucking asshole.

“Do you want to…uh.” His gaze snags on my chest. My nipples pinch and his eyes darken. “…put a line of pillows down the bed or something?”

He actually looks nervous, and delight sparkles through me. His e-reader screen’s turned off due to inactivity, but he hasn’t noticed.

“I don’t think we need that, do we?”

Silently, he shakes his head. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, gaze sliding down my stomach, my hips, my legs. I adjust the pillows behind my head, take a deep breath that makes my tits rise and fall, and close my eyes.

“Get under the covers.” His voice sounds hoarse.

I can’t look at him. If I see his expression, I’ll burst into laughter. “I get too warm. This is fine.”

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