Mcca

, throbbing pain

nergy humming through the bond he had forced between us. The mind-link stretched fr

ne of my pearl-gray dress had slipped down, exposing the curve of my shoulder. There it was-an angr

the reflection, were cold with a

suite door opened. Hassan Doyle strode in with the modified hotel keycard

Hassan had insisted that their private meetings, lingering touches, and whispered conversations were nothing more than political necessity. But there had al

hanel suit, her makeup perfect, he

ettling on the bite mark exposed on my should

toward me. He grabbed my shoulders, shaking me

a bitter, cold lau

didn't know I possessed. I looked him stra

ed, each word a shard of glass, "wh

fore returning in a dark flush. Hi

ssan, darling," she cooed, her voice sickly sweet. "Don't w

t to be a knife, an

into place. The mission, the risk, Hass

He turned back to me, his voice rising once more. "You ruined everything!

inger at me. "We're done

e last vestiges of my grief for what I thought we

kness forgotten. "We were done the moment you l

anced at Sloane, then ra

daring him. "Go on. Do it. Show everyone that Hassan Doyle isn't jus

ir. He couldn't do it.

?" Sloane tugged at his arm, impatient.

d. "So, the Sharpe family

eded. This wasn't just Hassan's ambition. This was the pri

escaped my lips. It

t?" Hassan demanded, his

a frozen wasteland. "I'm laughing at myself," I said,

t out. Take your new maste

an involunta

the exit. "A marked Rogue," she said over her shoulder, her fi