Tomilola paced anxiously behind her father's desk. The minute she and Charles had gotten home she'd sent one of the hands out to meet Demola, tell him he was expected back at the estate. Pronto. She flexed her hands, trying to generate some warmth in her cold, clammy fingers.

Prison.

Prison. The ominous title rang in her head, knotting her stomach and sending her feet skimming faster over the thick brown carpet. Pain and anger slashed through her. She'd kissed him. And he'd kissed her back, damn. How dare he not tell her he'd spent time in prison?

Two brisk knocks sounded on the door.

She spun to face the...