*Tia*
Following dinner, I retreat to the library with Killian, where he pours us each a glass of port while his father sees the vicar to his carriage. We sit before the fireplace in awkward silence, the only sound the crackling of the fire blazing in the hearth. Yet for all the heat it generates, I can’t seem to get warm.
My husband… dear Goddess, a husband… whose eyes never stray from me as though he expects me to try to make off with the family silver. He thinks I’m a mercenary when I know damned good and well that money cannot protect me nearly as effectively as he and his position in pack Society can.
It occurs to me that perhaps he is mentally disrobing me, but why bother with doing that when he could escort me to his bedchamber and tear off my clothes with as much haste as he desi
