I should never have allowed Margaret Shelton into the library. Her fallen status makes her the perfect ally for securing the deed, yet her yielding nature stirs a hunger I refuse to name.

Every command I issue tests my control. Her bitten lip and hesitant obedience turn the heavy oak desk into something dangerous, and the ledgers on it will decide both our fates. The estate deed hangs between us, yet it is the thought of marking her that threatens to break my resolve.

Tonight I tell her to stay where she stands. She has not asked to leave. I have not decided which line I cross. The cravat is in my pocket, and she knows what it is for.