“Well? Answer me.” Ashton slid his hand down her neck. His fingers shaped themselves around the column of her throat, and Rosalind felt a twinge of fear. But rather than throttle her, he caressed her. Her skin broke out into gooseflesh as a sense of anticipation began to rise in her body. Rosalind knew of Ashton’s reputation. He was more than capable of compromising her. But here? Would he dare?
They’d crossed paths once before. Last December they had engaged in a bidding war for a shipping line. She’d conceded to him only because of her curiosity regarding how he’d wounded his arm. In exchange for the truth, she had relented and let him win his bid for the shipping line.
But she hadn’t agreed to relinquish her other interests. Her late husband’s business was important to her, her means
