Taking Declan down a peg from his cool composure had Desire feeling pretty good about himself—until it backfired, anyway. His expression fell and evened out all at once as he put his hand back in his pocket, but his carriage was distinct from Reason’s. Shifted weight, slouched posture, the tilt in his head to regard Declan just a little off-center from directly.
“And who the hell are you to tell me what I want?” he demanded. “Or is the ‘life’ and ‘home’ you want to give me here a strictly no-touching kind of deal, huh?”
no subject
“And who the hell are you to tell me what I want?” he demanded. “Or is the ‘life’ and ‘home’ you want to give me here a strictly no-touching kind of deal, huh?”