‘‘For a moment I actually believed you, well played, London. Maybe your acts of vulnerable are far more deceiving than I first thought, but you can stop. I’m in no mood for tears and sad faces. They do nothing and we’re late, walk faster or I WILL carry you.’’ He warns, all ice and venom and I swear in moments like this I do not feel anything for him except a resounding need to stab him in his smug face. I wonder if a stiletto would make a good choice of weapon and contemplate trying. He really knows how to get my blood pumping and insides churning up like a...