AMY’S POV
"I asked you a question, Amy," COle said softly, taking a step closer. The scent of dark cedar and expensive cologne rolled off him. "Whose is that?"
My throat went dry. My fingers tightened against the cold steel edge of the work table until my knuckles turned white.
"You already know," I breathed, unable to force a lie past my lips under the suffocating weight of his stare.
Cole watched me, his face a perfectly carved mask. But beneath the surface, I could see the storm in his ice-blue eyes… the bitter realisation that despite locking me in his house, despite kissing me, despite ruining Ryder's draft stock to keep him away, he was losing control.
"He's going to use you, Amy," Cole murmured in a low, terrifyingly gentle voice that cut deeper than any yell ever could. "He's
