It takes every ounce of willpower to tear my gaze away from him and let it survey the house. I drink in its imposing facade, dark windows, and the ivy crawling up the walls. Any other time, I would find it creepy, perhaps even terrifying. But with Mr. Rochester here, it almost feels like my first safe haven since everythingwent to hell.
“This place is like a sanctuary,” I say.
He cocks his head. “Why?”
My gut heaves. Damn it. I said too much. My mind whirs, struggling to reply. How the hell do I explain without giving myself away?
“What are you hiding?” he asks, his brow furrowing.
I shake my head. “Who, me? Nothing?”
“You have secrets.”
“No, of course not?—”
“Because I have to know for Adele’s sake. Will my little girl’s heart be safe with you?”
I inhale a sharp breath. The vulnerability in his voice tells me he’s worried about his own heart. It’s wishful thinking, even though my cheeks bloom with warmth. But I have to say something to hold his interest.
“My last relationship was abusive,” I say.
It’s not complete bullshit, since my marriage to Brother Matthew was beyond brutal. And Gil might have been perfect until he switched, but the way he discarded me was its own kind of cruelty. “A place like this will be a sanctuary from what I escaped.”
His expression lightens with hope. “Could you ever see this place as your home?”
The yearning in his voice makes my pulse quicken.
“God, yes,” I say, my voice breathy.
Mr. Rochester’s hand on my shoulder tightens. And the look he gives me is pure intensity. I sway on my feet, feeling like we’re standing on the precipice of something exhilarating.
“Miss Burlington?”
“Yes?” I whisper.
A muffled thump from inside the housedraws his attention away from our moment. “I must leave on important business. Will you still be here when I return?”
My heart thuds. My throat dries. The pulse between my legs comes to life. “Of course.”
“Then please, be at ease here at Rochester Manor. This is your home as much as mine.”
“I will,” I say, breathless with anticipation.
With a nod, he strides through a set of patio doors and disappears into the house. I stare after him, my skin on fire. My hands tremble so much that I press them against my heart.
It wasn’t in my head. He wasn’t talking about me as an employee. Heat pools low in my belly at the promise of starting something with Mr. Rochester. I’m already aching for his return.
EIGHT
THE KEYHOLE
I heard the excitement in your voice. Saw the flush in your pretty cheeks that spread down to your glorious breasts.
Did your nipples tingle at the thought of being entombed here forever, my love?
In my domain, you will never age. You will, however, eventually rot.
But not until I’ve enjoyed every facet of your submission.
