Dark eyes meet mine. "Bella," he cajoles, "you have my word that I won't touch him. But there are words that need to be said and I would prefer them to be discussed in private."
"Does it have something to do with me?" I ask even though I know the answer.
He eyes me wearily. "Yes."
I fold my arms across my chest, the overnight bag still hangs from my shoulder. "I'm not leaving. If you have something to say to Dominic, I'd like to hear it."
My refusal exasperates him. He's not used to me fighting him. All he usually has to do is flick his obsidian gaze in my direction or trail his fingers over me, and I fold like a house of cards, eager to do whatever he wants.
Well, not this time.
"Bella-"
Brows drawn together, I repeat in a sharper tone, "I'm not leaving."
He watches me for a long moment and then shrugs. In a soft voice, he admits, "I don't want you to hear this."
"I'm staying."