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I sigh heavily. “It’s all agreed, Cara. We just have to sign the papers.”
“No.” Cara tugs her hands free and steps back. “My father would have told me. Why didn’t he tell me?”
“I don’t know, sweetheart, but you’ve nothing to fear. I’ll be a good husband to you.”
Cara snorts in disbelief. “Aye, right. I’ve read all about you, Alexander Shaw. You’re the last person who should pollute the sanctity of marriage.”
I grimace. The tabloids have enjoyed splashing the more lurid details of my sex life across their front pages.
“You can’t believe everything you see in the papers. And, anyway, once we’re married, I’ll settle down.”
Cara raises an eyebrow. “So I shouldn’t believe what they say you get up to, but you’ll stop getting up to those things when we’re married. Is that seriously what you’re telling me?”
I stifle a grin. Cara’s eyes flash fire at me. It makes me want to shove her up against the wall and fuck the defiance out of her. Since the deal with the Douglas clan hasn’t yet been sealed, I suppress the desire to defile their princess. I’m a patient man. I can wait for ten days.
“I’m telling you, Cara, that I will take care of you when we’re married.”
Cara shakes her head. “I don’t need you to take care of me,” she spits. She backs farther away. “I need to speak to my father.”
As she turns to walk away, a sharp scream pierces the night air. My stomach drops as I realize it came from the house. I run back through the gardens and find an open side door. Heading in the direction of the anguished yells, I find my way back to the dining room. It seems my instincts about an ambush were correct. The scene that greets me is horrific. The clan members who came with us lie dead on the floor, their throats slit. My mother and three younger sisters are facedown on the table, lifeless, including Sophie, who’s only seventeen. My father is on his knees, a knife at his throat.
An inhuman wail pierces my eardrums and I realize Cara has followed me. Her shriek attracts attention to us. My father looks at me, his hopelessness seeping into my bones. He’s always been so strong.
“Run, Sandy,” he urges me. “Save yourself.”
As Jason Henry raises his Glock, aiming it straight at me, I’m spurred into action. There’s nothing I can do against so many armed opponents, so I make the only logical choice. Shoving aside Cara, who’s blocking my way, I run. It’s vital I survive because, when the time is right, I’ll take my revenge. The Douglases will pay for this. Every last one of them.
Chapter2
Cara – three years later
As I pass beneath the soft yellow glow of a streetlight, a shudder runs down my spine. This isn’t the first time I’ve had the feeling I’m being watched. For weeks now, someone has been lurking in the shadows wherever I go. I’ve never actually seen them, but I know they’re out there. I suspect it’s one of Jason Henry’s henchmen, waiting for the right time to grab me and drag me home. The day I turned twenty-one and got control of the modest trust fund my grandmother set up for me, I walked out. Nothing will ever induce me to go back. Jason wants me as his bride, so he can legitimately take over the clan when my father dies. The one decent thing my father has ever done is to order Jason to keep his distance. I’ll never consent to marry that monster. Not after he took such an active role in massacring the Shaws.
They invited the rival family into our home under the pretext of arranging a betrothal, and then murdered them in cold blood. Only Alexander escaped the initial slaughter, but Jason chased him into the woods bordering our property and shot him three times. He plunged into the river and was swept away. Though his body was never recovered, it’s impossible he survived. The rest of his clan scattered throughout Scotland and Jason has been systematically hunting them down, determined to leave none alive.
What hurts me most about the plot to kill the Shaws is that they used me as bait. Alexander and his family only came to the house that night because I was being offered as the sweetener for a deal that would have united our clans. Although I had no idea what my father and his brutish enforcer had planned, the guilt I carry over their actions is immense. Just thinking about the anguish in Alexander’s gorgeous brown eyes as he bore witness to his family’s destruction makes me want to cry. I’d do anything to put right the wrongs my father committed.
As footsteps pound the pavement behind me, fear crawls up my spine. I don’t look back, just quicken my pace until I reach my apartment building. Once inside, I run upstairs to the fourth floor, where I share an apartment with my friend, Adele. I must startle her when I burst in, as she drops the wineglass she was holding. It shatters on the kitchen’s hardwood floor and her favorite chardonnay splatters far and wide.
“Fuck, Cara!” She raises a hand to her chest. “You almost gave me a heart attack.”
“Sorry,” I say sheepishly. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“It’s okay.” She tiptoes carefully over to the sink to retrieve a dustpan and brush from the cupboard beneath it. As she crouches to sweep up the shards of glass, she glances up at me and cocks her head. “You look pale.”
“I’m fine.”
“Uh-huh.” She purses her lips in a way that tells me she doesn’t believe my response. “Why don’t you pour us a drink and grab a seat? I’ll join you when I’ve cleared this up.”
Since I was the one who made her drop the glass, I should probably have offered to clean up the mess, but I’m tired after a long day of working at the bookstore, so I just carefully step over the glass to grab the bottle of wine Adele left open on the countertop. I take two glasses from the cupboard and back out the way I came. The kitchen is compact, but we have a decent sized living room with a nice view of Hyde Park. The apartment belongs to Adele’s cousin, who’s letting us live here at a knockdown rent. Even with the income I draw from my trust fund, we wouldn’t be able to afford a two-bedroom apartment in one of London’s most desirable neighborhoods otherwise.
Putting the bottle of wine and glasses down on the coffee table, I shrug out of my jacket and drop onto the sofa, sighing as I finally get the weight off my feet. I pour two glasses of wine and take a long, slow sip of mine. It’s a little sharp for my taste, but it helps to calm my nerves.
“So.” Adele flops down onto the sofa next to me. “Why did you fly through the front door like the hounds of hell were chasing you?”
I laugh at the hyperbole. I may have flung the door open a bit too enthusiastically, but it wasn’t that dramatic. “It’s nothing. I just thought someone was following me.”
Adele’s eyes narrow and I know I’m about to receive a lecture. “Cara, this has gone on long enough. You’ve been convinced someone’s stalking you for weeks. It’s time to go to the police.”
