mattress, her body a battlefield. A fiery heat radiated from her palm, a throbbing agony that had sprea

ad take

cold eyes, Veronica's smiling portrait, the jeering faces-playing on a loop. She

ss of amber whiskey in his hand. He stared out the floor-to-ceiling window, his gaze

t him. He'd expected her to break. He'd expected tears, begging, a desperate plea for mercy at

d him more than any

g over the rim. He grabbed his suit jacket, strode out of the study, and descend

ch of his shoes on fallen leaves was the only sound besides the wind. He reached th

The rotten wood splintered around the lock, and the

ll me? What game are you playing now

could see her shape, a small, huddled form under the thi

," he c

le

d down, his hand closing around her sho

It wasn't the warmth of a living body; it was the dry, unnatural bur

the grimy window, he saw her face. It was deathly pale, her foreh

er chest. The makeshift bandage was soaked through with a dark, ugly

tred pierced his armor. It was a cold, sharp feeling

is pocket, his fingers fumblin

d. "Get to the estate. Now. Bring a ful

ing. What's going on?" his d

u're fired." He hung up wit

vement, he stripped off his own expensive jacket and draped it over

ace, his mind a whirlwind of conflicting impulses. He wanted her to suff

bag in hand, his face etched with concern. He took in the scene-the squal

on, what hav

cut away the silk bandage. The wound beneath was swollen, red, and oozing. He

t out, but his voice lacked convic

ash, administered a powerful shot of antibiotics a

But if she stays in this place, with this damp and cold, the fever will come b

r pale lips parted with each shallow breat

ow growl directed at the doorway, where Ma

he west wing.

ed Aria up, mattress and all, and carried her

n the dark stain on the floor where her blood had dripped. A sudden,

the sharp pain in his knuckles a welcome

in a large, warm bed with clean she

fall of her chest, the paleness of her skin against the crisp white pillows. Then, as if th