Joyce Monroe shifted, her back aching and legs weak. They'd started sometime after five, and by the time he was done, all she could remember was sunlight already streaming through the sheer curtains…
Last night, Silas Thorne had been very gentle.
But their encounter in the early morning had been different—surprisingly fierce.
She even wondered if she'd been heroically wounded in action.
"Want to sleep a bit longer? Or get up and have a bite to eat? Dad said you've been working hard lately, so he's giving you two days off." Silas Thorne set aside the document in his hand.
His gaze was still gentle, but as it swept over her slightly swollen lips and landed on the red marks on her neck, his eyes seemed to burn with a sudden heat, tinged with an inexplicable aggression. Joyce Monroe knew that look all too well, and she immediately threw back the covers to get out of bed…
But her legs were so sore that she almost fell.
