“If I give you one of your damned compliments,” he growls, “will you stop questioning me?” My eyebrows hike up with surprise. He’s actually going to try complimenting me? This I have to hear. “Sure,” I say. But in the silence that follows, I brace myself for some stinging barb. “You have a lovely voice.” I feel an unexpected flush of warmth at his words. I tilt my head in confusion. “But I thought you wanted me to stop talking,” I say. “About me. Talk your ass off about anything else.” “I’m sitting here with a man who says he’s not actually a man, riding a horse that might not actually be a
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