Violeta tilted her head at him. Dante told her to do a lot of things, but just because he made the demands did not mean she followed them. He knew that. Of course, with the right suggestion--a growl, a nip, a smirk, fingers tangled in her hair, nails gripping her hip--she could be persuaded. He knew that too.
Her lips curved around a soft hitch of breath as he pulled her by the waist, a rupture of nerves spread hot beneath his touch. She placed one hand over his shoulder, the other on the back of his head, and found his mouth again, smiling against it.
"Show me what you have in mind," she murmured, the tip of her tongue flitting over his sweet-tasting upper lip. "After we go iceskating." Her mind was made up. Before he could rob her of her resolve, she drew away with a broader grin, sliding both her hands down to his chest. "It is a good compromise."