He raises his eyes, anger and hurt visible in his pose.

Then he notices your garb, and a subtle change overcomes his features. His eyes dart to the kitchen and back. It's an infinitesimal instant, like the time between a glass hitting the floor and the moment when shards of glass fly all over the place. You see him inhale, and straighten.

A ghost of a leer, or maybe a smile, floats through his features, replaced with a slightly culpable look.

"I'm sorry honey. I apologise for yelling at you, it was uncouth and unacceptable. It just really, really hurts, but I have no excuse. I was seething because I forgot my keys and wallet in the office and it made the last hour a bit difficult, and I took it out on you. Will you forgive me for that, and also, maybe, for forgetting to plug the heater back on?"

Then he smiles.

"It's a nice palm, though, isn't it? I wasn't quite convinced, but you were right. It's a great idea."

You know he means it. He means the apologies, he means the appreciation. You're still kinda upset, a tiny bit angry and rather cold. And damp. And annoyed. But he's smiling at you, and deferring to your skills and opinions.

Can a woman really stay angry at such a man?

"You're damn beautiful." he adds, looking straight into your eyes.

Can you really hold a grudge to suck a man?