As Chloe Bishop gave her quiet, submissive reply, Xavier Grayson suddenly seemed to lose interest. The dark, obsessive spark in his eyes flickered out, replaced by his usual mask of cold indifference. He released her throat, the sudden lack of pressure leaving her gasping for air as he stood up.
"Clean yourself thoroughly before you come out," he commanded, his voice devoid of emotion as he turned and strode out of the steaming bathroom.
Left alone in the cooling water, Chloe scrubbed the spots where he had touched her with a frantic, spiteful energy. She washed her skin until it was raw, yet she knew that the marks he left on her soul—the invisible brand of the Grayson name—could never be washed away.
When she finally emerged, draped in a thick silk robe, the master bedroom was empty.
