People spoke of him in sad whispers, their eyes full of pity. But when Sophie met Emery’s gaze, she couldn’t pity him. Sympathize? Yes. Pity? No. His expression of domination demanded obedience, respect, and not one second had passed where he’d let that expression falter, except when he’d stared at the picture from his past. Only then had she seen the other Emery, the one trapped in childhood memories. The one she had to save. For that was clear. Part of this man before her needed to be saved.
“I’m not sure bedding you is worth my tale of woe.” His tone sounded almost taunting, rather like he was reciting Shakespeare. He was mocking her!
Embarrassment flooded her face with heat, but her pride was pricked. Without a second thought she slipped off one shoe and threw it at him.
Thunk! It b
