"You're way too tense. Relax. I'm not going to roast you." Mikael exhaled sharply, letting go of her shoulders. He stepped back and assessed her posture.
"I never thought of that," Eve told him. She almost turned around until she realized their close proximity. With that distance, the perceptive model might see through her disguise.
She shuffled her feet instead—as if she tested each step. A teasing smile curled her corner lip. "I merely had the impression you skewer people."
Mikael's eyebrows shot up. It seemed that a certain someone gained a smart mouth. "Isn't that essentially the same thing?"
"No, it means you sta—poke at them."
He grimaced. He had heard similar comments before but rarely in this manner. Others preferred to spit at his face, telling him off so he'd fall from the pedestal he created for himself.
Or so that was how Jordan described it.
"Were you perhaps offended by my remarks?"
