Everyone gazed at her in disbelief as she stepped back into the living room.
"Shit, Issy, I don't remember the last time I saw you in a dress!" Mike cried.
"What?" Jack demanded as he poked his head around the doorway. His mouth dropped open. "You're not wearing that!"
"Shut up, Jack!" she yelled at him.
"I'm with Jack." Ethan folded his arms over his chest and stared at her in disapproval.
She cast him an angry glare. "No one asked you."
"Isabelle—" Jack started.
"You go to clubs, right?" she interrupted.
"Well uh, yeah, but—"
"I can't walk in there wearing jeans."
"But—" he stammered.
"For crying out loud, Jack, I'm twenty-three years old! I think I should be able to wear whatever I want!" she retorted, tired of being babied and coddled.
His hazel eyes gleamed angrily, but he nodded briskly and ducked out of the doorway. A minute later the screen door opened and banged shut. "You'd better hurry up, he might leave you behind," David warned.
"I'll kill him!"
She hurried toward the door, slipping her shoes on as she went. "Isabelle, you look good!"
"Thanks, Doug." At least she could count on someone not to act like a total ass all the time.
She hurried out the door and ran toward Jack's idling car. Throwing open the back door she slid in, eager to escape the house and Stefan. Ian gawked at her in the dim light. "Not one word," she warned.
"What are you wearing?" he demanded, completely ignoring her.
Isabelle rolled her eyes and turned to slam the door shut. A pair of gleaming onyx eyes stopped her in her tracks. Her breath froze as Stefan stared at her from the front seat. He looked irritated, but the hunger in his gaze caused her toes to curl in her shoes. It was only then she realized he hadn't been in the living room.
"Shut the door!" Jack barked apparently still annoyed at her for the confrontation in the house.
Isabelle glanced longingly out the door. She could jump out now, say she’d changed her mind and run back into the house. Surely, he wouldn't follow her. Actually, she was certain he would. She was trapped. If she got out now, he would be in her room. If she stayed, she could get away from him at the club, and she would find another man who appealed to her. Isabelle slammed the door, and the light turned off.
Stefan turned around in his seat, his jaw clenched. He couldn't believe she thought to evade him by taking off with her brother and Jack. He also couldn't believe what she was wearing. A muscle began to twitch in his cheek from the clenching of his jaw. Every man there was going to be after her. The thought infuriated him beyond belief. His hands clenched into fists as he turned to look out the window.
If this was the way she wanted to play, fine. He was going to give as well as he received. There would be lots of women there. Lots of women who would be more than eager to warm his bed, not run away from him.
"I cannot believe you're wearing that," Ian muttered.
Stefan hid a grin as he realized her brother was almost as upset about the provocative dress as him. Although, her brother was worried about it because of men like him, who wanted nothing more than to rip it off her, reveal her splendid body, and take her. He was worried he might rip it off her before the night was over.
"It's a perfectly fine dress," she retorted.
"For a hooker," Jack mumbled.
"You would know!" she snapped.
"Hey! I have never paid for it! And we're only looking out for your safety!" Jack protested hotly.
Isabelle seethed as she clenched her hands in her lap. She didn't need this, especially not in front of Stefan. "And how is that?"
"You're such an innocent, Isabelle," Jack muttered. "Abby and Vicky have more common sense than you do."
She stared at them in disbelief. "Are you telling me you would rather see Vicky or Abby in this dress, than me?" she demanded.
"Yes!" they both cried.
Isabelle sat in dumbfounded silence, unable to believe what she was hearing. "Why?" she inquired.
"Because Vicky and Abby at least have some idea of men, you don't," Ian retorted. "They can handle a man —you can't."
Isabelle's face flamed red. She despised the fact they were talking about her like this right now. In front of him! She fought the urge to punch them both in the face. "That's ridiculous!"
Stefan didn't think it was at all ridiculous. She didn't have any idea about her effect on a man, or what a man was capable of doing.
"Do you have any concept of men?" Jack demanded.
"Maybe if I’d ever met one I would!" she retorted furiously.
Stefan bit his lip to keep from laughing. To think he’d been feeling sorry for her because her brothers teased her about feeding. He now realized Isabelle gave as good as she got and was more than capable of handling them.
"We're going to have to beat the guys off you!" Ian yelled.
"Then there will be less of them for you to worry about while you're looking to get laid," she retorted. "Besides, I can handle myself perfectly fine, thank you."
"Isabelle—" Jack started.
"Look, I am a grown woman; I don't need anyone to raise me anymore. I can handle myself and anything that happens. Besides, I'm stronger than any human male, so I think I can protect myself around them. Now back off!"
"Never could talk reason into your thick skull," Jack muttered.
Isabelle turned to the window, her face flushed with annoyance and embarrassment. There were times she greatly wished she had no family at all, and this was one of them. It didn't help she could sense Stefan's humor. They were yelling at her about the men in the club, yet the one they should
