As she fell back, Mia Grant raised her hand and slapped Yates Donovan across the face.
The man's movements stopped, and an eerie silence descended.
Yates Donovan looked up at her, his eyes filled with disbelief.
He never thought she'd actually have the nerve.
Then again, it was less of a slap and more of a light smack; it didn't have much force behind it.
But it had, undeniably, landed on his face.
For any man, that would be a serious blow to his pride.
But Yates Donovan was only stunned for a second. The fading fire in his eyes suddenly had fuel thrown on it, and it flickered before roaring back to life.
Mia Grant froze. 'Wait... did he *enjoy* that???'
He seized the hand still resting on his face, gripping it tightly.
Yates Donovan's chest rumbled with laughter.
A tremor shot through Mia Grant's entire nervous system.
She was suddenly filled with regret.
"If you've got this much fight in you, why don't you try kicking Silas Grant a few times?"
