After eating a bellyful, Lexie sat indignantly in the kitchen, watching almost begrudgingly as her fiancé threw the plates in the sink.
His back was turned to her and though the dark, blue shirt he wore aspired to hide everything of his bodily features beneath it, it couldn't hide the muscles that protruded from his back, the broadness of his shoulders and the thickness of his arms.
Even through it, Lexie could imagine how built he was, how strong and now, she was feeling lucky that he wasn't the one who whipped her. If it had been him, she'd probably be dead by now.
He'd show no mercy, not that the old man did, but he was much stronger than that frail midget.
Sighing, she leaned back in her chair, silently watching as he finally turned to her, face as blank as a clean sheet of paper.
