One Night With The Unstable Billionaire

had done

tween her body and the freezing concrete beneath her. The damp basement air clung to her skin like

know what I cannot stand about you, Arla? You walked into this house with no

. A shoe-expensive, the heel catching the dim light-nudged at something small and still l

with the certainty that comes only at the

, almost gentle-the same voice that had whispered goodn

who had sworn to protect her-blurred into indistinct shapes against the basement's yellow light. Clinton wip

not a word. It was the shape of everything she

avy, absolute-sw

one thought crystallized, sharp as broken glass: I

ed into h

ry, overheated, covered in silk. The slick slide of expensive sheets tangled around her legs. Her pupils contracted against the dim yell

rds. Lightning flooded the room for a heartbea

a sound that turned the bl

h something suppressed and agonizin

iffly, as though the muscles

le pulled taut as steel cable on the verge of snapping. He was built like something

hands that stop

struggle was smeared across the polished brass in streaks of red. His eyes were squeezed shut, veins standing

Her spine hit the cold he

hing stopped for a sin

l, the thunderstorm, the man in the restrain

nk. The night she had stumbled into the wrong suite-the sui

real. If s

a line from which there was no return. The day

r fear. She had to get back to the manor.

ng gown crumpled on the floor. She pulled it over her head, shoved her arms through the sleeves, reached behind her back. The zipper caught

d toward

hrashing stopped. The silence that replaced it was heavie

screamed at her to run.

he brass doorknob. She pressed down. The lock clicked,

shriek of metal pulled

he dark. Bloodshot. Wild. Sharpe

aight through

, his voice raw and ru

othing to her. Sh