A Second Chance With Mr. Blackwood

e massive windows, warming the tang

er waist like an iron band. Her back was p

moved with agonizing slowness, rolling ove

her heart doing a slow, heavy thump in her chest. She raised her

the rigid line of his jaw gave him

e waited for the knife in the back, the screaming match, the inevitabl

of his thick eyelashes. A smal

the hard bump of his Adam's apple, lea

over. His dark eyes snapped open,

er wrist. He squeezed, the pressure bordering on pai

her head and rubbed her soft cheek against the rough palm of the h

ing voice was raspy, heavy with sleep and comp

tared at the faint red marks his fingers left on h

ssive knock hammered against the heav

igid voice bled through the wood. The head

ble hated Giovanna. Usually, this was the exact moment Giovanna

s tensing, ready to absorb th

. She pushed him back against the pillows. Her touch

lack dress shirt from the floor and pulled it on. It

ot to the door an

in raised in a permanent sneer. The sne

ersized men's shirt and the very obvious, dark r

said. Her voice was ice. It wasn't a r

her mouth, her fac

ook in Giovanna's eyes-a look of absolute, chilling authority that promised utter destruction-made Mrs. G

ed her head awkwardly. "Yes, Mrs. Blackwood." She t

r. The loud click ech

e ice in her eyes melted. A swe

on her, tracking her every move. He looked at her like she was a c

wled up the mattress and straddled his h

er Mrs. Blackwood just

e hands grabbed the back of her head, pulling her down, and