McGill shifted on the bed enough for Daphne to extricate herself from his grasp. She pulled to her feet. Grabbing her robe from a nearby chair, she clung to the two sides, too petrified to do more.
“You have to go now,” she said.
She watched the man slowly rise up and sit on the edge of the bed. From there, he wordlessly grabbed his pants off the floor and lazily put them one, then finally stood up. He held his shirt in his hand and stared at her.
“You’ll get used it. You’ll get used to me. But if you think I’m going to let you have your way, Daphne, if you think I’m going to buy a pack of silly excuses for pushing me off, you’re a foolish wench. You’re afraid. I’ll give you that. And I’ll give you some time to sort this out. But you will be confessing to me whatever it is that has yo
