"You're trying to punish me," she said, "because I refused you." "No," he said slowly, considering her words even as he answered. "No, I'm not. I'd like to punish you, and in my current state of mind I'd even go so far as to say you deserve to be punished, but that's not why I'm doing it." "Then why are you?" "It's for your own good." "That's the most condescending, patronizing--" "I'm sure you're right," he allowed, "but nonetheless, in this particular case, at this particular moment, I know what's best for you, and you clearly don't, so-- hit me again," he warned. Sophie looked down at her fist, which she hadn't even realized was pulled back and ready to fly. He was turning her into a monster. There was no other explanation. She didn't think she'd ever hit anyone in her life, and here she was ready to do it for the second time that day. Eyes never leaving her hand, she slowly unclenched her fist, stretching her fingers out like a starfish and holding them there for the count of three. "How," she said in a very low voice, "do you intend to stop me from going my way?" "Does it really matter?" he asked, shrugging nonchalantly. "I'm sure I'll think of something." Her mouth fell open. "Are you saying you'd tie me up and--" "I didn't say anything of the sort," he cut in with a wicked grin. "But the idea certainly has its charms." -Sophie & Benedict"