art of his carefully cultivated control. But he wanted her to recognize that everything in this house was his—including her—and he treated his possessions as he liked.
Barefoot and still wearing his breeches, he swaggered over to where she stood. She retreated a step before she gathered her courage and held her ground.
Futile courage. Much better for her if she’d taken to her heels. But of course, she’d tried that last night and had only delayed her inevitable fate.
As he’d told her, he knew every hideout on this estate. When madness gripped his father, Kylemore’s very life