er up the marble steps toward the heavy mahogany front doors. Head butler Charles Hayes

in the second-floor study playing chess wit

's name, Caesar'

erst

with oil paintings of past Whitfield patriarchs. With no servants in sight, Aria let out

cond-floor landing, followed by the heavy th

t knight move was a fatal mista

male voice answe

top teasing me. You

rowed as he looked at the six inches of empty space between himself and Aria. If his gran

expression softened into something warm, and he lifted a hand to her face, gently tucking a loose curl behind her ear. Th

othing like she expected-gentle, almost tender, with the scent

r murmured against her skin, his voic

a saw two figures come to a dead

othing-no grin, no surprise, only the flat, unreadable composure of a man who had spent a lifetime keeping his thoughts behind his eyes. Beside him,

e small of Aria's back. Her face was flushed, her eyes a littl

pering through clenched te

lun

rushed a stray strand of hair from he

much? The show is j

his head and looked straight up the staircase, meeting Clar

, his voice completely cal