The Woman Who Died To Live

nouncements, but with a quiet, chilling finality conveyed through Mr. Davies. But when Mrs. Gable, the housekeeper, dared to suggest

crystal glass from his desk; it shattered against the far wall. "She is fine! She's being

g he was losing that control, or worse, that he might actually *care* for Elara in any conventional sense. His facade of cold ind

l scars remained. During her forced convalescence, with Diana gone and Alist

an she had helped, the one who sai

naged to hide. A small amount of cash saved from the meager allowance Alistai

nline, the money sent to a hidden account she'd managed to open under a slightly altered name. She stitched some cash into the lining of her oldest coat. Every act was a small step toward

ck of a suitable partner, were starting to circulate. A powerful, older senator, a kingmaker in the party, visited the Sterlin

mark about "family values" and the importance of a "

oked at Elara, who was serving

rom a side table. Before anyone could react, he drew the sharp edge ac

his side, and pressed his bleeding palm ag

inging with a wild, possessive energy. His eyes dared anyone to c

cky on her hand, his grip like iron. It was a mad, theatrical gesture, a public branding. He was claiming her, binding her to him in the most

determined. She had to get out before he completely lost his

tedly away in D.C., she was looking at a small, crudely drawn map she'd made, mar

He was b

was too late. He strode across t

he map, then at her, contor

erously soft. He crumpled the map in his fist. "After eve

rm, his fingers

with a possessive fire. "You belong here. With me. If I

, but to a more opulent guest suite in a secluded wing of the mansion. The win

, and infinitely more secure. Her ho

utiful, luxurious. And terrifying. Alistair's outburst, his discovery of her map,

hope in the overwhelming darkness of her despair. How could s

oed in her mind: "Yo

of defiance still glowed. He could lock her up, guard her, but he cou