Wyatt sat down on the bed across from Isabella, his face drawn tight, his eyes glittering with anger.
"You have to be honest with me. You need to give me some reason why I should believe anything you say. Why should I trust you or believe you?" he said, as though talking to a small child, firm but gentle.
When he released a long, deep pent-up sigh Isabella realized his waning patience. He didn't appear to be the sort of man to play games. Good thing!
When he looked at her, she felt that he could see through her, into her, read her thoughts, know her feelings. He left her tongue-tied and weak. A no-nonsense kind of man, Wyatt expected a straight and honest answer for a direct question.
Isabella answered with trembling lips, her voice shaking as she tried to get her breath, gulping big s
