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Azriel shrugged a shoulder. “Okay.”
“I am not, my Lord.”
“And I said okay.”
He watched as her skin turned beetroot red. Where there should be fear for such a temper, Azriel found only amusement. Perhaps that was always what had drawn him to Penelope, that pride of hers.
“I have to go, my Lord,” She said at last. “And please do not take this the wrong way, but I hope I never see your face again as I work.” ƒ𝔯𝗲𝗲𝙬𝒆𝚋𝐧oѵℯl.𝒄𝑜m
“You don’t mean that, ...
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