The Dark Hour
In one rush Ravi reached by her side, clamping his hand over her mouth. “Don’t shout,” he drawled out, looking calm. “Keep your voice down, baby.” His hand was still on her mouth. He released the pressure of his hand. She was about to say something when he struck her on the mouth and clamped his palm again. His breath fell on her face, the smell of whiskey squirming her mouth and nose. The noisy breath of a sadist, hot, coming out in quick succession. She controlled her disgust, telling herself to remain calm. But the look in her eyes, try as much as she did not to bring it to her face, was that of alarm. “Listen to what I have to say, Charoen.” He released the pressure again. “I love you, and I will do anything to get you. Be it even exchanging heaven with hell.” Her hair had falle
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