As33 - English Homeworrrk.

The remains of yet another bottle of wine poured lazily into its glass. I turned to face him, and with the hem of his favourite red dress gently brushing against my legs I walked over and sat back down.

He tried that sexy-stare. It didn't work, never does – he really has no idea. I brushed his arm with my fingertips, and held his gaze that second too long. I was on form tonight, a vixen.

Once again he tried to take control, but we both knew better. I knew all about the other women, every tiny significant detail - the thousands I’d paid for my private investigator made sure of that.

The confrontation was coming. Later on, he'd tell me that he couldn't bare to loose me, and that I’m the only woman that's ever been good enough for him. He'll tell me that I’m different, and if I’m lucky - special. But I won't fall for it, not this time.

Casanova would soon find out that with me, he'd finally met his match.

My speech was cleverly thought out; ready to reel off. I’m no tragic, pathetic woman and I sure as hell wasn't going to risk sounding like one. I held my glass up to my lips, took a short sip and opened my mouth to begin.

"I know -”

He interrupted me with a smile, his eyes twinkled like conflict diamonds.

"What is it?" I asked, almost daring to smile back.

"You really are the only woman for me, babe."

With that, I smiled and took his glass; "Refill, sweetheart?" The arsenic was waiting over by the sink.

He knew I hated it when he called me 'babe'.