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Sienna’s eyes circled the room. She felt certain that every person in attendance could see the guilt written across her face in bright red paint.
She blinked several times, hoping that this was just an evil trick her mind was playing on her, due to her guilty conscience. Each time she refocused, the defendant standing before her was still the man who could make her body quiver and come on command.
The one-dimpled smirk he was giving her let her know that he knew exactly who she was, too, despite the blasted eye mask that was supposed to have provided her with anonymity.
This had to be some kind of sick joke. Was he planning to make a mockery of her in her own courtroom? Why would he be standing before her accused of a terrible crime at the precise time when she was with him? Had thi
