ACROSS THE GRAVEL DRIVEWAY and up the wooden steps of the front porch, Brook remained in Clive’s arms. Even once he’d unlocked the door and let them into the living area, she didn’t struggle to be put down. She still had many hours of her charade ahead, and she could not risk tipping him off before she had figured out the rest of her plan—despite his pledge of only wanting to help. At least the air of the guesthouse held a fresh cleanliness the main house lacked. Over there had seemed tainted. Soiled.
After booting the door closed at his rear, Clive strode toward the open-plan kitchen and rounded the counter. Her bottom met with the chill countertop, when he set her down and un-tucked his chin from the spot it had claimed at the crook of her neck. Without glancing at her, he marched back
