The men smirked but did as he’d asked without question, quickly and efficiently binding her to the chair in front of the desk. “We’ll be just outside the room if you need us,” one of them promised.
Once they were gone, Roger stared at the woman, still doubtful. “I’m supposed to believe you are Prometheus?”
“I don’t care what you believe,” she snapped.
“The Strathmores hired you, didn’t they?” He chuckled. “I have to hand it to them, for a second, I thought my longtime nemesis might actually be a young woman.”
She said nothing, simply staring him down, her entire body vibrating with anger.
“I know my stepbrothers were behind this,” he said, standing up and circling her, taking in every enticing inch. “You’re connected to them in some way. Closely, or you wouldn’t have been at that bloody wedding.”
At last, she looked away, and he knew that last shot had hit home. She obviously didn’t want to admit she was working with those bastards.
“Which one of them was it?” he demanded, the desire to know beating out all other considerations.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said dully, refusing to meet his eyes.
He watched her for another long moment, fantasizing about the ways in which he would break her. She seemed to have a spine of pure steel, but he knew that eventually he’d find her weakness. In the meantime, he would send a message to his stepbrothers and let them know he had her. Then he’d see whether they cared enough about her to reveal themselves in order to save her.
Chapter Sixteen
The next day, Morgangathered his children and took them all up to the attic, where they began to paint as he found himself staring blindly at the portrait of Fiona he’d been working on. No matter how many times he’d tried to capture the exact shade of her auburn hair, he was unsatisfied with the results.
With a groan of irritation, he tossed aside the canvas, determined to start over.
However, in his heart, he knew his main issue was that he didn’t want to be here. He wanted to be back at Brookhaven, working on his next mural.
She hadn’t told him he couldn’t continue his work, just that she didn’t want to be in his life, but he’d thought it wise to give her a few days. Now, he wondered if he should. Maybe if he just kept showing her how much he cared about her, if he kept being there for the children, she’d finally understand that she belonged with him and that her fears were unwarranted.
She’d promised him she’d stop pushing him away, then done it again the very next day. He didn’t know whether he wanted most to shake her or kiss her. All he knew was that without her, his life seemed suddenly as meaningless as it had a few weeks ago.
Still contemplating the idea of taking the children and going to Brookhaven, his thoughts were interrupted when his brothers burst into the attic, their faces grim.
“What is it?” Morgan asked, his stomach immediately dropping.
“We’ve heard from Roger,” Luke said, striding across the distance that separated them and handing Morgan a folded letter.
