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Chapter 3

Word Count: 1081    |    Released on: Today at 14:41

g in a part of Brooklyn that tourists were warned to avoid. Puddles the size of sm

anhattan. She fumbled with the seatbelt buckle, her movements jer

she whispered, her ha

rential downpour outside

ne's voice cut t

she retrieved a long, sleek, black umbrella. It was a Brigg, custom-made for Kellan in London. His initials,

umbrella into

his," s

eer quality of it, the weight and feel, was so out of place in her w

negotiation. "You can return it to me. Sometime." She let th

stranger from the slums. His face was a thundercloud, his silence more menacing than any

nk you," she repeated, then pushed the door open and scrambl

ger door c

e curb, leaving the grim Brooklyn street behind. It headed b

. Evangeline, for her part, closed her eyes, resting her head against the cool leather. She could feel his

lding. They rode the private elevator up to the top floor without exchanging a single

t first, ripping his loosened tie from his neck and tossing it onto a marble conso

to a pair of silk slippers. She walked to the wet bar, her movements unhurrie

ass to her lips when h

next his presence was a suffocating blanket at her back. He snatched the glass from her hand, sla

nst the edge of the bar, trapping her. His large frame loomed over h

dangerous rasp, "was that tonight? Wh

d, his mouth aiming for the sensitive skin of her neck. It was a familiar move. A punishment. A reassertion of own

ysically sickening, churned in her stomach

ed withou

mpty air. His entire body went rigid with shock. He

his chest. She pushed. Hard. It wasn't enough to move him

ce shaking with a mixture

n disbelief. The surprise was slowly being

mouth. It was a weak excuse, a shield she had never had to use b

her hands still pressed against his chest. He was searching for a

scaped his lips. It wasn'

ened his shirt, his movements sharp and pre

th contempt. "But this little tantrum

de toward the master bedroom suite. The bathroom door slamme

he shower starting was a dull roar in her ears. She reached for the whisk

looked toward the closed bedroom door, her eyes glinting

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