Hearing the door open, Ella’s eyes jerked open. Clive had entered. She knew that without turning toward the door, his essence went before him like a herald.
“So, I see you’ve finally given up your maverick jaunt,” he said, his voice sweeping her with its chill.
“Yes, sir,” she said. She automatically rose from the chair and faced him. Perhaps if she was obedient from the outset, he’d have some pity on her. If she submitted without a fight perhaps he wouldn’t remember how she’d left in a defiant panic three years before.
“And you’re ready to yield?”
“I am.” She looked him squarely in the eye, hardly meek, yet still compliant. Her first gaze into his face, she could see he’d hardly changed. Perhaps his inky black hair was a bit longer, now a beautiful mane of ebony he brushed bac
