Behind me, a male voice rumbles, thick and slurred with whisky. I stiffen.
“You’re an upstairs lass, izzit?”
I don’t turn around. Don’t move. My stomach swoops so abruptly, I might vomit.
There’s a shift in the air. He’s closer now. Too close. The stench of sweat and ale hits me.
He speaks again, lower, his breath hot on my neck. “You lost, lass?”
I swallow hard.
Upstairs lass.
Horses and candlelight.
Antique keys.
Traveled far.
This isn’t exhaustion. This isn’t jet lag.
I didn’t miss any details the first time. They weren’t there.
Because yesterday, this was a different world.
Chapter
Ten
The man has me trapped. I freeze, muscles locked, mind fogged and useless.
His hand braces against the door beside my head. I stare at it, dazed, waiting for this to stop. Willing him to vanish.
This can’t be real.
Then his other hand moves, sliding around to grab my breast. The violation jolts through me like an electric shock.
This is happening.
Words burst from me, tumbling over each other as I shove at him, nails scraping skin, cloth, anything. “Stop. Get off. Don’t.”
He laughs. Low, smug, like I’m something small and beneath him.
His fingers dig in harder. Then he’s—oh God. He’s pressing his hips into me, grinding.
Revulsion shears through me. With a strangled cry, I twist and buck backward, all instinct and fury.
He stumbles. Loses his grip. For a breathless second, I’m free.
But he steps in again, closer now, breathing harder. Silent. I feel his intent. A predator fired up from the chase.
And then another hand slams down, pinning his to the door. My whole body jerks. For one horrifying second, I think it’s another attacker.
“Let her go, and you keep your hand.”
Callum.His voice is low. Lethal.
He came for me.
