AURELIA MARLOWE

I remained against the wall after Ronan ordered me to come, turning instinctively towards his voice while the ache in my throat reminded me of exactly what his hands were capable of.

Until tonight, I had believed he was merely cold. Rude, arrogant and inexplicably hostile, certainly, but still a man I might eventually understand once the strangeness of our marriage eased. There had been too much cruelty in him tonight for me to believe that anymore, and although I had no idea what I had done to earn such hatred, whatever Ronan believed about me had clearly been decided long before I became his wife.

Anger remained...