"Sorry, not-my-Tony, but from the looks of you, a decent Scotch might kill you. Soup first, we can talk about the scotch later," he said. She had waited till he had gotten to his feat. She had waited to give him part of his answer. But before he could withdraw his hand, he shifted them to her home. He would only experience a soft tug at his belly and a moment later they arrived in her living-room. That big light space with huge sofas and walls lined with bookcases. Some pictures were still hanging on the walls, depicting people the billionaire did not know, at least not yet.
Kat simply continued to speak as if nothing had happened. "As for the helping, I just like a good damsel in distress and you make a fantastic one." She shrugged. Her tone was amused. She had the faint idea that whatever answer she could provide, he would not buy it.