Tempted Trapped and Too Late to Run

Clara froze for a few seconds, her mind blank. Panic took over and she snatched a vase from the cabinet, smashing it right over his head.

A rush of sweet plum blossom filled the air. The dried flowers she'd arranged so carefully scattered their petals everywhere, and the beautiful vase-one she'd picked out just for him-shattered to pieces against his skull.

But Clara had no idea the flowers were the ones she'd given him, or that the vase was expensive.

Pressed against the wall, she eyed him warily, her voice tight. "Are you clear- headed now?"

Dylan didn't answer. He just felt something warm drip down his face.

He didn't bother to touch it. Instead, his gaze drifted to her lips.

Her lips were swollen and bright red. There was even a spot of blood at the corner his doing.

Clara felt a chill under the weight of his stare. She couldn't shake the feeling that this wasn't the Dylan she knew.

If Dylan used to be pure white, the man in front of her now was all shadow and contrast-dangerous, unpredictable.

If the old Dylan had manners and boundaries, she used to think she could handle him.

But right now, she felt like prey, dangled in front of a hungry lion.

She dropped her gaze and made a break for the door, but his voice stopped her.

"I asked Aiden to get your household register. We're getting our marriage certificate tomorrow morning."

Clara froze, her hand locked around the doorknob.

She gripped it so tightly, her knuckles went white.

"Mr. Dylan, I told you-I have a boyfriend."

doesn't matter to

same four words. Dismissive.

to stay calm. "That's not true. I care about

the vase shards at his feet. "You really don't

her like

didn't get it. Why did being calm have to mean being heartless? She just wanted the best for everyone,

didn't have to mean dragging

arguing. Without looking at him, she said, "If I leave the country, Walter will stop meddling in your marriage. I

soon as she finished, Dylan stepped right up to her, studying her face. Clara tensed, turning

later, his hand clamped around her

and her brows drew

thumb pressed against her lips,

him off, desperate to put some

cupped her face in his hands, his

"Clara, don't push me."

She had no idea what to say, or what to do to keep

words made

I'll keep you

fluttered. She shoved him away,

was genuinely scared now,

yanked open the bedroom door, and

she nearly

say a word, and Clara

either.

over

for the front

and rushed past,

was huge-way bigger than