“I need to go. The sisters will miss me if I am not present at breakfast.”
“Is that so? You didn’t seem worried about that when you were stealing my horse.”
Her face heated, and she fluttered her eyelashes trying to think of a suitable lie. She could feel her heartbeat accelerate as she was suffused with panic.
“I—I—I—” she began to say, not knowing where she was going with that sentence.
He took a step forward. “Tell me your name.”
“I…”
He narrowed his eyes at her. “Tell. Me. Your. Name.”
“H-Helena. Helena Porter,” she said shakily. “Are you here to kill me?”
He frowned. “What? No, Lady Helena. I’m not here to cause you any harm.”
Sweat trickled down her back. “You could be lying. To ascertain you had the right victim.”
His brow furrowed, his blue-gray eyes intensifying. “Is your life in danger, Lady Helena?”
She gulped. “Perhaps. Perhaps not.”
His mouth twisted. “It is in your best interest to be direct with me, my lady. In any case, I have to ask you to come with me. I have some questions for you.”
Helena’s heart leapt. “Come with you? Where?”
“To my home. As I said, I have some questions.”
“About?”
“Your father,” Silas said.
Helena gasped.
Acting on instinct, she tried to rush past him in order to escape. His arm went around her waist, like a band of iron, holding her back.
She took a moment to marvel at his strength even as she tried to fight.
He pulled her towards him so that her shoulder was flush against his hard chest.
“Lady Helena,” he said firmly in her ear, “I am not here to harm you.”
She inhaled his scent, a mix of sandalwood and citrus, and found herself breathing him in deeply. Every part of her body ached to melt into him, but she fought against it with everything she had.
If she had learned one thing in this forsaken convent, it was that she could trust no one. It wasn’t that nobody could help her; it was that nobody was willing to.
She had lost hope of a savior a long time ago.
“Stop fighting,” he continued sternly, “If you truly think your life is in danger, I am your best bet towards survival.”
“How do I know you are not my assassin?” she hissed as she tried wiggling out of his grasp.
“I am trying to solve your father’s murder,” he whispered, his tone carrying a growl.
Helena’s eyes widened.
“Aha, so it is indeed a murder,” he told her. “And the people who wish to kill you are his murderers, then?”
