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It was too late

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Sir Justin’s hand closed over Isabelle’s mouth just as her eyes flew open to see him sitting beside her on the bed, and the scream that naturally followed was thoroughly muffled.

“Do not,” he warned, his voice low and firm as he placed a cloth over her mouth and quickly tied it behind her head. Isabelle tried to strike him, but found that her hands and feet were already tied. “I mean you no harm, and I do not wish to hurt you. If you will but trust me a little, I vow, on my honor, that all will be well.” Then, picking her up, he carried her to the chamber’s one window, out of which a rope dangled. “I’ve wanted to tell you this past month, but never found the chance. I find you very beautiful.”

Isabelle had always been rational. Always. But in the wake of Sir Justin calling her beautiful, rationality disappeared, and he had tossed her over his shoulder and carried her all the way down the length of her uncle’s grand manor house before it even occurred to her that she should put up a struggle…!

The Bride Thief

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