“Good. Because I’ll need outfits for London.” His expression shuts down. “No.” His voice is firm. “No? You’re telling your wife no?” I snap my legs closed, but he growls and yanks them back apart with a sharp tut. “Temptress. I am not taking you into an active warzone to watch me torture a man.” I pout. “I want to watch. I want to see how you work. I want to learn from you.” His hand clamps around my throat. “And it’ll really turn me on,” I whisper. “No. Stephanie.
