Sahir went still.
Dax stopped breathing. The idea settled into him slowly, winding through his posture, loosening something in his shoulders and sharpening something entirely different behind his eyes. Sahir, who had long ago learned to recognize danger disguised as curiosity, saw it instantly: the subtle shift from alert restraint into something far more deliberate, far more dangerous, and honestly far more entertained.
For a man like Dax, few things were more appealing than an opponent willingly lining themselves up to be humiliated.
And now, apparently, Chris was inviting him to enjoy it.
"They want to test limits?" Chris said again, as if they were discussing dinner plans rather than international brinkmanship. "Then let them." He lifted one shoulder in a faint, measured shrug, the robe sliding lower over his dark silk shirt. "I want to see what they plan. Don't you?"
