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Roman registered that this was an odd thing to say, but as his interest in the Fitzgerald family and how she fitted into it was at best minimal he did not react to the information. Instead he suddenly stopped in his tracks. While it had been entertaining to a point he was tired of this fencing.
‘How long are you going to carry on pretending we are strangers?’
Izzy took another few steps before she slowed and turned to face him, her face flaming. His elevated brow and his dark eyes mocked her.
‘I didn’t even know your name until five minutes ago. We are strangers.’
‘Strangers who have had sex,’ Roman retorted, his impatience wearing paper thin. Her innocent wide-eyed routine was beginning to irritate him. ‘Was the child yours?’ He had a vague recollection of dark curls and a pink dress, so presumably a girl, but he had been concentrating on the woman holding her and the way her already beautiful face had been transformed when she had smiled at the kid.
He’d said yours not mine. So maybe he hadn’t guessed that Lily was his daughter. Feeling her panic subside from red alert to amber and fighting the lingering urge to run, Izzy veiled her eyes with her silky lashes as she fought to regain her composure.
‘Yes, she is.’
‘Are you married?’
Izzy was too startled to respond to his abrupt question. ‘I beg your pardon.’
‘I’d prefer you answered my question.’
There didn’t seem much point lying. ‘No, I’m not married,’ she admitted.
He tipped his head, some of the tension in his expression fading as his eyes continued to sweep her face. ‘And you’re not with anyone?’
Izzy framed a cold smile in response to his continued abrupt questioning style. She was suddenly conscious of being very hot. The silk chiffon dress clung uncomfortably to her skin and beneath it her bra chafed her nipples.
‘Is this you making small talk or is there a reason for this interrogation?’ It was hard to tell if he knew how rude he was being.
‘You didn’t answer my question.’
She gave a small smile. ‘You noticed.’
He clenched his teeth in a white smile that left his spectacular eyes cold. ‘I can do small talk. I can even tell you you’re the most beautiful woman here today.’
Izzy was desensitised to insults after being the focus of gossip for so long, but compliments always threw her off balance, even one delivered in such an oddly dispassionate way. Or maybe it was the person doing the delivering.
She moved her head sharply to one side, causing the loose tendrils of her hair to move over her face, partly to hide the juvenile blush she felt burning. She looked at him through her lashes and achieved a negligent shrug that managed to deliver a level of indifference she was a million miles from feeling.
‘You could? But your innate honesty prevents it?’ she suggested.
‘I could, but—’ He shook his head and his hooded gaze skimmed the pure lines of her oval face, lingering on her soft full mouth, taking pleasure from her beauty on a purely aesthetic level. His pleasure tipped over into the carnal as the image of those cool lips moving over his body sent his level of arousal up several painful notches.
‘After that build-up this should be good.’ Her amused smile faded as their glances locked. The rampant, hungry gleam in his eyes made her painfully conscious of the ache between her thighs.
‘It will be,’ he promised modestly, adding in a low throaty drawl that made her heart kick heavily against her ribcage, ‘I thought you’d prefer a more direct approach.’
She had been very direct the last time they’d met, and it had saved a lot of time. He really wanted that bold seductive witch back. What would it take to cut through this act? ‘Maybe,’ he mused, appearing to consider the question, ‘I haven’t been direct enough.’
Before she could digest his comment, let alone respond to it, he was right there beside her before she was even conscious of him moving. Then without a word he framed her face with one hand, fitting his thumb to the angle of her jaw, and tipped her face up to him. His other hand moved over the curve of her bottom, his fingers splayed across the firm contours as he dragged her closer to him, then in one smooth, seamless motion he fitted his mouth to hers.
Izzy froze at the contact, her body stiffening in tingling shock. Then as his tongue insinuated itself between her lips, forcing them apart, a low tremulous moan was wrenched from deep inside her. He was hard and hot and she closed her eyes, stopped fighting and grabbed for him, her hands circling his neck as she opened her mouth, inviting him to deepen the slow, sensual exploration.
The devastating kiss seemed to go on for ever, or was it seconds? Izzy had no idea. When he released her her head was spinning and she was shaking and struggling for breath. Blinking, she took a shaky step back, falling inelegantly off one heel in her agitation.
‘No!’ she cried, avoiding the steadying hand he had extended as she regained her balance—her pride and dignity would take a lot longer. What was it about this man that seemed to awake her inner cheap tart?
Shock and shame rippled through her as she stood there wanting to hit his smugly complacent face, wanting to curl up and die from sheer shame, wanting not to be here.
Shame or not, Izzy knew with despairing certainty that if he touched her she’d react the same way. She wrapped her arms tightly around herself as she shivered and blinked to clear the last remaining shreds of the hot haze of lust fogging her vision.
When she made herself look at him she felt something inside her snap. Not the same something that had snapped when he had slid his tongue into her mouth, not mind-numbing lust—this was mind-awakening fury. Two years … two years of coming to terms with that night and in a few seconds she was right back to square one!
‘Just what was that meant to prove?’ she yelled at him as her conscience criticised her. You are such a hypocrite, Izzy. You are angry with him when you should be angry with yourself. As she was hit by a fresh wave of shame her eyes fell. He might have instigated the kiss but you sure as hell did your best to make sure it didn’t end!
‘That we are wasting our time talking when we should be in bed,’ he answered calmly.
A gurgling sound of sheer disbelief escaped her clamped lips as the haze of lust descended again like a blanket. Furious with herself for inviting his response, she painted an expression of distaste onto her face while struggling to push away the images his words had planted in her head … sweat-glistening golden skin, tangles of limbs pale and dark intertwined … moans … She wasn’t even sure if the moan was part of her torrid imaginings or real. All she cared about at this point was keeping him ignorant of what was going on in her head.
‘My God, you do love yourself, don’t you?’ Her haughty scorn was paper thin; scratch the surface and her entire body was suffused with burning heat. Her insides shuddered with the aftershocks that still made her shake.
At least no one had seen them; that was something. The thought was barely formed before a frantically barking dog ran out into the street. Izzy immediately recognised it as the shop owner’s excitable terrier.
Afraid that the noise might bring someone out of the shop to investigate, she snapped a desperate, ‘Hush, Bella,’ which the dog ignored as she ran barking towards the village shop where she continued to bark as she danced around the feet of the figure standing in the doorway.
Izzy’s heart sank to her knees as she registered the familiar figure of Emma, her eyes round with shock and her mouth open.
‘Izzy!’ she said as though she expected to be contradicted, her glance moving repeatedly back and forth between Izzy and the tall figure beside her.
‘This isn’t what it looks like, Emma.’ Except it was, it was exactly what it looked like, and this time she didn’t have trauma or alcohol to blame. It had been all her. Biting her lip, she turned to Roman, her blue gaze willing him to back her up. ‘Tell her,’ she snapped.
‘I don’t know what it looked like. I only know what it felt like—rather good. You haven’t lost your touch, cara.’
In one sentence he had managed not only to confirm Emma’s suspicions, but also leave the impression that this wasn’t the first time they’d kissed.
Her eyes narrowed with dislike, and to rub salt in the wound he looked utterly cool, except for the dark bands of colour that drew attention to the slashing angle of his sculpted cheekbones.
Emma shook her head as though she were just waking up. ‘Wow, you and …’ She inhaled and suddenly grinned, approval beaming all over her face. ‘I said you needed some fun but I never …’ She looked at Roman and shook her head again, framing a silent Wow! behind her hand as she looked at her sister.
‘Emma, no, I—’
‘It’s fine, Izzy, totally cool. The man obviously prefers brunettes. Carry on, pretend I was never here.’ Throwing a quick cheeky grin over her shoulder, she set off down the hill as fast as her incredibly high spiky heels would take her.
‘Emma!’ Acting on an instinct that told her she had to stop Emma and explain to her that she couldn’t tell anyone what she had seen, Izzy hit the ground running, but she had barely covered a yard before she was physically hauled back.
Slapping at the restraining hand on her shoulder, she spun around furiously. ‘What do you think you are doing?’ she snapped.
He released his grip on her arm but took both her hands in his, pulling her around to face him. ‘What are you doing?’ he countered, struggling to drag his eyes above the level of her heaving bosom.
‘I’ve got to stop her before she tells someone that she saw us.’
Under his olive-toned skin the fine muscles along his jaw quivered and clenched. ‘You have a baby so I’m thinking people might have guessed you’ve been kissed before,’ he drawled.
‘I’m sure you thrive on notoriety, but I’ll still be living here tomorrow.’
‘Why do you assume I thrive on notoriety?’ Roman worked very hard to protect his privacy.
She shook her head stubbornly. ‘You’re a billionaire p-playboy.’
The term made Roman’s firm lips twitch with amusement. ‘Playboy?’
‘All right, maybe not a playboy,’ she admitted. Did she even know what a playboy was? ‘But you are a billionaire.’
Roman blinked. He had been referred to as such before but never so accusingly. ‘Which means I don’t value my privacy …?’ The furrow between his dark brows deepened as he tacked on an abrupt questioning, ‘And why?’
She looked at him blankly. ‘What do you mean why?
Why what?’
‘Why will you be here tomorrow? Didn’t you live in London? Why have you buried yourself out here in the middle of nowhere?’ Unless she had followed the father of her child?
‘You can’t bring up a child in a flat …’ Why am I defending my life decisions to him? ‘And anyway, this happens to be a very good place to live.’
‘So this is a permanent arrangement?’
Her eyes slid from his. ‘My family lives here.’ She lifted her hands, still confined in his. ‘Do you mind? I need to catch up with Emma.’
He let her go and watched as she rubbed her wrists even though he had not been holding her tightly. ‘You catch her and what? What are you going to do to her if she doesn’t keep your dirty little secret?’
For the first time she picked up on the anger in his voice.
‘What’s going to happen if she does tell? Is the sky going to fall in?’
Izzy loosed a scornful laugh. ‘Oh, I’m sorry, I wouldn’t want to hurt your ego by not telling the world what a great kisser you are. Would it help if I gave you marks out of ten?’ She rolled her eyes. ‘Oh, for goodness’ sake,’ she snapped. ‘Get out of my way. I have better things to do than pander to your massive ego. I have a baby who needs feeding.’
The reminder of the child situation brought a frown to his broad brow. If he could not have a child of his own Roman did not want to play father to some other man’s … but he was willing to concede that all rules had exceptions.
‘Look, two years ago I was a very different person. Let me spell it out for you: I don’t have sex with rude, incredibly arrogant bores.’
‘ You did.’
She gritted her teeth. ‘I must have been very drunk.’
‘No, you weren’t, but you were incredible.’
Furious with herself for reacting to his smoky voice, she screened her eyes and took a deep breath, exhaling it slowly before she reacted.
‘Really.’ She gave a rueful grimace. ‘I’ll have to take your word for it. I’m afraid that it’s all a bit hazy for me.’
‘I am happy to refresh your memory. I’ve wanted to repeat the experience for a long time.’
The man had an extraordinary ability to say the most outrageous things the way other people commented on the weather.
‘You want to get drunk and jump into bed with a total stranger? I don’t suppose there’s anything stopping you, but personally I like to learn from bad experiences, not repeat them.’
‘Bad experience? How would you know if you don’t remember?’
‘I’ve met you now, so let’s call it a lucky guess.’ Izzy’s hands balled into fists at her sides as she struggled to breathe past the anger building in her chest. Did he really think she was that easy?
No, he knows you ‘re that easy.
‘Anyway, what are you suggesting—the shrubbery?’ She flicked the bush to her right with her hand, causing scarlet petals from the rhododendrons to rain on the floor. ‘Or is that too romantic? What about the back seat of your car?’
One expressive brow lifted. ‘I have a perfectly acceptable hotel room, but I’m always up for a new experience.’
Izzy looked at him, achieving a look of amused contempt, then spoilt it by choking out, ‘You’re totally disgusting!’
He looked taken aback by her reaction. ‘I thought you liked me that way.’
Like! Like had nothing whatever to do with the feelings this man evoked in her. ‘I didn’t say that or anything like it!’
Again her lie returned to taunt her. ‘How would you know, if you don’t remember anything about it? I’m not quite sure why you’re getting so worked up. I thought you were a girl who liked to cut to the chase.’
‘I know you think you’re totally irresistible, but for the record I find you crude and crass and quite frankly I wouldn’t touch you with a ten-foot pole!’
‘Actually, I’m thinking more hands-on, cara,’ he drawled. ‘So you’re not interested?’
His amused disbelief made her long to slap his complacent, beautiful face. ‘Absolutely definitely not.’
He shrugged. ‘A pity.’
Izzy couldn’t decide if she was relieved or insulted that he wasn’t pushing the idea. The fact that she had doubt at all proved that her judgement was seriously flawed around this man.
CHAPTER THREE
IZZY walked into the hotel foyer, aware that Roman was following a few steps behind her. She stopped and turned. ‘Will you go away? Or I’ll call Security.’
‘I was invited, remember!’
‘You …’
‘All right, I’m going, but if you change your mind I have a room …’
She ground her teeth at his deliberate provocation. ‘I’m never going to be that drunk.’
‘Izzy, dear, did you find it?’
Flustered, Izzy turned to find Michelle with Lily in her arms, walking across the lobby towards her. ‘Find …? Oh, yes, my bag, thanks, Michelle. None the worse for—’ She stopped and dropped her hand, realising that she had found her bag, but she didn’t have a clue where it was now. Although she wasn’t much concerned compared with the presence of Roman Petrelli, who was now standing just a few feet away from his daughter. ‘Sorry, it took me longer than I thought.’ She knew he hadn’t moved; even with her back to him she could feel the waves of raw male magnetism he radiated.
‘Oh, don’t worry about that, the reception isn’t for another hour.’ Michelle’s expression showed her opinion of this break with tradition. ‘All at the behest of that ridiculously expensive photographer Rachel insisted on.’
‘Well, thanks. I didn’t mean to dump her on you.’
‘You know I love having her, the little angel. Actually she fell asleep in the car and she’s only just woken up. Have you got her … yes?’ Michelle relinquished her hold on the baby and took a step back to grab a glass of champagne from the tray of a passing waiter.
‘Have you seen Emma?’ Izzy asked casually.
‘No, she must be around somewhere. Are you feeling all right, Izzy? You look rather pale. You haven’t got another migraine—’ She broke off, her quizzical gaze shifting to a point behind Izzy. Even without the eyes-widening moment that Izzy presumed was the normal response for any female with a pulse when they saw Roman, she knew what was coming next, but even so she still flinched when she heard his voice.
‘Excuse me, ladies.’ Moving into view he divided his smile between Izzy and Michelle, giving the older woman the lion’s share and conscious in his peripheral vision of Izzy’s expression of panic. What the hell was her problem? Did she really think he was about to tell the world they had shared a night of passion? Being associated with him had never done any woman’s social standing any harm. ‘But I think this might be yours …?’
If her back hadn’t been literally to the wall Izzy had no doubt she would have run, but as the tall, elegant and devastatingly handsome figure approached, with a smile that could have charmed a steel bar into malleable submission, there was nowhere for her to go.
Izzy took a deep breath and lifted her chin. This was face-the-music time. She stared at the handbag dangling by its decorative metal chain strap from the long brown forefinger of his right hand, but before she could respond Michelle exclaimed, ‘Oh, look, Izzy—it’s your bag!’
Izzy, who had never seen Roman turn on the charm before, was not surprised to hear the older woman give a girlish giggle.
‘Oh, yes, so it is. I must have dropped it again or something, thank you.’ She waited, her eyes conveying cold disdain as she shifted Lily’s weight to her left hip and in the process partially shielded her from view before she extended a hand to receive it.
Roman held the bag just a little away, prolonging the moment before he threaded it over her wrist. His lips twitched appreciatively; managing to make ‘thank you’ sound like ‘go to hell’ was quite an achievement.
He dipped his dark glossy head. ‘You’re welcome.’
‘Well, isn’t that lucky you found it, and realised it was Izzy’s?’ From Michelle’s expression it was clear that she was not immune to his high-voltage charm.
‘Very lucky.’ He extended his hand towards Michelle. ‘Roman Petrelli. We have met at Gianni’s wedding.’
For once Izzy was able to place Emma and Rory’s handsome older cousin as the son of her father’s eldest brother. He was here today with his gorgeous, redheaded, very pregnant wife.
‘Of course, you were his best man, but no.’ Michelle tilted her head a little to one side as she studied Roman’s handsome features with a frown. ‘That’s not it. You remind me of someone …?’
Izzy knew exactly who he reminded her of and stared at the floor. This was probably what it felt like to act normally in the middle of an earthquake when you knew, you just knew, that any moment the earth was going to open at your feet.
‘Your son Rory worked for me last summer … we were impressed. He’s a young man with promise.’
The perfect way to a mother’s heart—say something good about her son, Izzy thought, a cynical smile twisting her lips.
‘Thank you. I’m prejudiced, of course, but I know he really enjoyed working for your firm. He was so enthusiastic when he got home. He’s waiting for his results at the moment. It’s such a tough job market out there.’
‘Has he put in many applications?’ Roman asked, not thinking about applications but the slim figure standing a few feet away. He could feel the inexplicable anxiety rolling off her in waves.
‘He’s waiting for the results of his finals.’ Michelle gave a rueful smile and admitted, ‘He was aiming for a first, but he thinks he messed up a paper.’
‘Well, exams are useful but I think enthusiasm and ambition are equally important.’ Struggling to maintain a level of appropriate interest, Roman fished a card out of his pocket. ‘My PA will be expecting his call.’
Izzy was amazed that Michelle, normally a very moral person, saw nothing wrong in this piece of blatant bribery thinly disguised as generosity.
The man clearly thought he could buy his way in or out of any situation. He probably heard no as a response once every ten years or so and then it was probably incorporated into, No, I don’t mind if you wipe your shiny handmade Italian shoes on me, Mr Petrelli. It would be an honour.
Izzy endured this conversation with gritted teeth. Without asking someone to move out of her way she could not drift unobtrusively away without drawing unwanted attention to herself and, more importantly, Lily.
She was cornered and couldn’t even access the glasses of champagne, she mused as another waiter drifted by, and she could really do with a drink. She had always known Lily looked like her father but until seeing them virtually side by side she had not realised how much. She couldn’t see how anyone would not be struck by the uncanny likeness.
He had to notice … It was inevitable. She was amazed they weren’t already the focus of finger pointing.
This was the last place in the world she wanted the big reveal, right here with a captive audience. It was going to happen; it was just a matter of when.
It was Lily herself who eventually kick-started the event. Tired of being carried and ignored, she let out a yell, shouting loudly, ‘Want go down, play … now!’
Roman winced in response to the sudden high-pitched ear-piercing squeal.
Michelle saw his expression and said, ‘She does have a temper!’ as she gazed with a fondness he struggled to understand at the red-faced bundle who was struggling like a demented demon to escape her mother’s arms.
His glance moved on to the small demon’s mother, who looked self-conscious, pink-cheeked and actually far too young to be a mother as she struggled to soothe the child, whose tantrum was causing a good deal of attention.
Roman might have expected to feel a certain amount of satisfaction witnessing her discomfiture. He did not consider himself a vindictive man, but he was a man who believed strongly in the old adage of ‘what goes around comes around’, and she had left him feeling a different and extremely painful type of discomfort. Her hypocrisy was staggering. First she had responded to him in a way that had fanned his smouldering desire into a full-scale conflagration, but had then acted as if he had somehow insulted her by suggesting they get reacquainted in bed! She had somehow managed to offend his masculinity and his intelligence in the process!
Double whammy!
Roman knew the signs when a woman was interested in him, and she was, so why was she acting as though there was some sort of stigma attached? It was as if she had undergone some weird personality transplant. Maybe taking her out of this environment, where relatives lurked around every corner, would bring back the erotic, uninhibited, adventurous lover of that night? He had a private jet on standby … and the villa on Lake Como … He smiled, seeing the plan formulating in his head coming together.
The opportune timing of the child’s sob meant he did not have time to consider why he felt such a strong need to construct an elaborate plan to get this woman into his bed, when he could achieve the same result without any effort on his part at all and with a woman who did not act as though he were a social liability!
As he watched Izzy cope with the distressed child and display a level of patience that was staggering, Roman found himself experiencing a sudden and inexplicable desire to help her.
He didn’t, of course. He didn’t have a clue about children, especially loud, screaming ones. His critical glance slid back to the child, who appeared to have been pacified slightly and was not so red in the face any more. He could see that she was not so … He stopped and looked closer. The child had dark hair, with blue-black curls, huge chocolate-brown eyes and skin the colour of rich honey. His eyes followed the suddenly very familiar shape of a jaw and eye … the mouth.
‘Dio!’
Izzy was alerted to the impending scene by his raw gasp. Her glance flew to his face in time to witness the stunned recognition. Both shock and denial were written in the strong sculpted lines of his patrician face.
‘How is this possible?’
Unaware that he had voiced the question out loud, Roman half expected to hear an answer in his head, but no reply was forthcoming. His brain, unable to cope with the shock, had closed down.
‘Were you off school the day they did the birds and bees?’ She regretted the comment the moment she said it, but flippancy was one of her coping mechanisms.
Jolted back to reality by Izzy’s comment, Roman glared at her. What was she now … the mother of his child? It didn’t seem possible, but instantly he knew it was. He looked at her and then at the baby, then back at the mother, who looked away guiltily.
‘Isabel?’
His voice made the fine downy hairs on her body tingle … ‘Izzy,’ she corrected, staring at his chest. Almost without thought she saw herself unbuttoning his shirt and peeling back the fabric to expose the smooth, golden tautly muscled flesh beneath. Taking a deep breath, she closed the door on the memory.
His dark, heavy-lidded stare zeroed back in on her face. ‘I think we need to talk.’
She gave a grudging nod, but was saved the need to respond by the appearance of a suited usher who had been sent to corral the stragglers and drive them into the wedding breakfast.
He consulted a seating plan in his hand and said, ‘Come on, ladies, we need to get you in first. It’s a tight squeeze and once you’re at your table it’s kind of hard to get out without a lot of hassle.’
The last sight Izzy had of Roman Petrelli’s dark head was in the distance as she joined the file of guests who were waiting to be greeted by the happy couple.
He looked like the living, breathing incarnation of retribution.
The wedding breakfast seemed to go on for ever, but when the opportunity arose during a gap in the speeches Izzy made her move for the fire door and escaped into the hallway.
There was no one in sight.
Then she spotted his tall distinctive dark head at the same time a waiter extended a tray of champagne her way.
With a groan of, ‘Oh, God, no!’ that made the waiter withdraw his tray, she began to weave her way through the crowd, her aim nothing more complicated than to put as much space between herself and the tall Italian as was humanly possible. She walked through the first door she came to and found herself in an orangery that was for the moment blissfully empty except for an elderly man with a red nose and large moustache who was dozing in one sunny corner, and the pianist playing the baby grand in one corner of the room.
The pianist smiled at Izzy and glanced towards the sleeping figure before miming an ironic hushing motion with his finger.
Izzy smiled back and set her struggling daughter on the floor, rotating her neck muscles, which ached from a combination of extreme tension plus the extra pounds her growing daughter had gained.
‘Careful,’ she cautioned absently as Lily grabbed a chair leg and pulled herself to her feet.
Izzy leaned back in the wrought-iron chair and sighed as her daughter eyed a plant several feet away and launched herself towards it, managing half a dozen steps before falling on her well-padded bottom. The startled expression on her face drew a laugh from Izzy.
‘Oops!’
Her daughter’s lower lip stopped quivering and the tragedy vanished and a moment later she sent her mother a sunny grin and continued across the room on all fours this time. As she watched her progress Izzy’s smile faded; she knew she was hiding and that she couldn’t continue in this way.
What was she avoiding? She couldn’t run away; she had to face him—he was Lily’s father. The image of his expression when he had looked at Lily surfaced, the shock and disbelief etched in his strong-boned features still fresh in her mind. She doubted many things in this supremely confident man’s life had shaken him, but seeing Lily had.
Izzy suddenly felt an unexpected stab of sympathy for Roman. She had been shocked too, but she had had nine months to get used to the idea of having a child. He’d just had the facts thrust live and kicking under his nose.
God only knew what was going through his mind.
She took a deep calming breath. It felt like the first time she’d really thought clearly since she’d felt herself sinking into those deep dark eyes on that night two years ago.
That one night when she had been someone else, but a night she was reminded of every time she looked at her daughter. Sure, this had been a shock—massive understatement—but might it not also be a positive thing … a good thing? It was a massive disruption of the comfortable status quo she had been enjoying, but surely her daughter having a chance of something she had never had the opportunity to experience was worth some disruption?
‘Lily, no!’ Izzy raised her voice in warning above the soft piano music in the background.
Her daughter’s head turned at the sound of her raised voice, but she did not halt her shuffling progress towards the tall cactus sporting scarlet blooms along its spiky stem that had caught her eye.
Before Izzy or her daughter could reach the spiky cactus the pot was blocked by a tall figure. A frustrated Lily treated the tall figure to a glare and, thrusting out her lower lip, yelled, ‘No!’
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