*Ethan*
I brood in the chair in front of the low fire in the hearth, taking another long swallow of scotch. For all my sins, I've never harmed a she-wolf, never caused one pain.
Until tonight. Until Rosalind.
Why the bloody hell didn't she stop me, or at least slow me down?
I can't understand this obsession, this need to possess her that courses through me. Never before in my life have I thought, ‘If I don't have this she-wolf now, I shall die.’
In her presence, I lose all reason. How else to explain my giving her five thousand pounds instead of having her arrested for swindling me? She swindled me further. Not a widow, but a virtuous she-wolf.
My dark laughter echoes around me. No, not virtuous. She might have never had a man between her legs but she is not virtuous. I don't know wh
