Elaris POV
Karl scooped me in his hands, steering me to his broad chest. I protested, kicking feebly against him, and bit the bastard; he just held onto me tighter, laughing at my attempts.
"Let me go," I snarled. "I told you I need to change into something."
"And I thought I told you, you are just as perfect. This is an in-house date. We aren't leaving—"
"This isn't a date," I snapped.
"That's fine. It isn't a date." He forced me a stiff, wry smile that grated my nerves and made me want my claws on his face. "The term doesn't matter; all that matters is that you are coming to have a drink with me and we talk." He spoke with a tone of finality that froze the rest of my protests in my throat.
"Fine," I grunted, staring down at the long flowery dress to make a point. "However you want it then." I didn't actually care about the dress; it had been my way to plot to escape. Too, he'd seen through the ploy.
