It felt good, watching him struggle to read me. He’d wounded my pride. And now, my pride called for blood. “It relieves the burden of a pretend courtship—which, as I understand, is abhorrent to you.” My smile did not touch my eyes. “Here, away from the gossip, we needn’t pretend to be anything we’re not.” Ravyn’s eyes did not leave my face. If my words had stung him, his stonelike features bore no tell. He leaned forward. “And what are we, Miss Spindle?” The intensity of his gaze sent me back a step. “Nothing,” I said. Then, for spite, “Isn’t that what you wanted?” Something flared in Ravyn’s
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