In the car, as they drove back, with her Masters on either side of her, Bianca could feel the tension oozing out from them. Both men were as tense as tight violin strings, she thought distractedly.

She shivered and buried her face in St Just’s jacket. He glanced down and wrapped her in his arms, meeting O’Grady’s eyes over the top of her head.

O’Grady mouthed soundlessly,

“BED.”

St Just nodded, kissing the wild brown curls.

They had returned to the villa she had stayed in when she first joined them, a palatial bungalow, with top-notch security.

The Masters had wanted to ensure that she was safe, with them.

“No...