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“But worse- much, much worse- she'd run away herself. That was unpardonable, unforgivable, unjustifiable. Hit him, shame him, spit at him- anything but turn her back on him. She couldn't simply quit their game. That, that was not allowed. And when he'd realized that she was out there on the stormy night moor, alone save an aristocratic lady and a goddamned bloody pony... He growled beneath his breath. She stilled against him, like a rabbit under a hound's jaws, her heart beating rapidly, and he was glad. She ought to be afraid of him. He was a very bad man and she was completely under his power. He could do anything to her. Anything at all, really. Time she learned that.” — Elizabeth Hoyt
But worse- much, much worse- she'd run away herself.
That was unpardonable, unforgivable, unjustifiable.
Hit him, shame him, spit at him- anything but turn her back on him. She couldn't simply quit their game. That, that was not allowed.
And when he'd realized that she was out there on the stormy night moor, alone save an aristocratic lady and a goddamned bloody pony...
He growled beneath his breath.
She stilled against him, like a rabbit under a hound's jaws, her heart beating rapidly, and he was glad. She ought to be afraid of him. He was a very bad man and she was completely under his power. He could do anything to her.
Anything at all, really.
Time she learned that.