Free Lacybourne Manor by Kristen Ashley Page B

around her.
    She hoped he would go now that
he had his way but he didn’t. Instead, she felt his warm hand heavy
at her neck and her entire body got tight.
    Then slowly, even gently, he
pulled her hair away.
    Then his mouth was at her ear.
“You should know that tears don’t work with me.” His voice was as
smooth as velvet and completely cold.
    She shivered.
    She had no idea why he was
informing her of this fact but it sounded like he was instructing
her. Instructing her in a way that it seemed he felt she needed
this information for their future relationship to go much
smoother.
    Like they had a future
relationship!
    Not on her life!
    (Or his.)
    She pressed her head deeper
into the pillows, her humiliation complete, wondering in which of
her former lives she did something so terrible that her karma
included this awful night. She must have been a serial killer in a
past life.
    “I thought you might like to
know, I have the keys to your car as well.” His voice was still at
her ear, still quiet, but it seemed to vibrate throughout her
system.
    “You’re a pig,” she whispered
and this comment caused him to laugh softly.
    He had, she thought with
extreme annoyance, a very handsome laugh.
    If she was a violent woman, she
would have lashed out. Instead, more tears came up the back of her
throat and she choked them down with effort.
    Finally, he left the room and
the minute the door closed she threw back the covers with such fury
that even Mallory woke from his exhausted doggie slumber.
    She alighted from the bed and
ignored the dizzy feeling her quick movements caused.
    She was going to put her
clothes back on, she was going to go get Mrs. Byrne, she was going
to explain that no volunteer role was worth this and she was damn
well going to walk home (if she had to, he didn’t say he took Mrs.
Byrne’s keys).
    But when she looked she found
her clothes were gone.
    Colin Morgan had taken
them.
    She collapsed back into the
bed, wondering if she could press charges when this was all over,
and holding onto her rage because it was the only thing that
stopped her from crying.
    And it was the only thing that
stopped her from thinking, however dictatorially it came about, she
was far more comfortable in his pyjama top, under the covers and in
the soft sheets of the bed.
    And the room was infinitely
warmer.
    * * * * *
    She finally slept but woke
early. The days were still short, the sun not yet fully up in the
sky.
    She woke because Mallory
desperately needed a comfort break and was telling her so by
shoving his cold, wet nose in her face.
    She had no moment of panic at
her unfamiliar surroundings then the events of the night before
that were burned into her memory surfaced but she still touched her
hand to her aching head in hopes that it was all a very bad
dream.
    It wasn’t.
    She had to take her dog
outside. She certainly didn’t want to explain a doggie accident to
Colin Morgan and likely the rugs on the floor were
irreplaceable.
    Sibyl got out of bed and then
she and Mallory, with Bran at their heels (the cat probably
thinking that breakfast would soon be coming) carefully wended
their way through the house.
    Sibyl was making more of an
effort to be quiet and find her way than attempting to look at the
house she once so desperately wanted to see. She visited National
Trust properties as a pastime, it was a hobby she enjoyed with her
father during their many visits to England, a hobby that she
normally loved. At that moment, the first (and, she hoped, last)
time she would ever be a “guest” at such a magnificent estate, she
was not filled with wonder and awe. She was filled with terror and
tried to avoid looking at anything that would eventually make this
memory more painful.
    She made it to the front door
and realised she couldn’t exactly walk outside in a man’s pyjama
top and bare feet.
    Searching around her, she
saw the almost hidden handle to a door in the carved wood panelling
in the wall of the entry. Her luck