Tempted Trapped and Too Late to Run

Chapter 590

Clara woke up and headed straight to the bathroom. She stared at herself in the mirror, her brows knitting together in frustration.

How had she let her guard down around Dylan so easily? It wasn't like her at all.

She leaned over the sink and splashed her face with cold water, hoping the sting would snap her out of it.

She really was like a frog in warm water-slowly getting used to things she shouldn't, letting her boundaries slip a little more each day. If she kept this up, she'd end up making exceptions for Dylan she never would have otherwise.

She couldn't let this go on.

Downstairs, breakfast was already waiting for her, courtesy of the housekeeper.

With no phone, no way to contact anyone outside, and no permission to leave the estate, her days had become mind-numbingly dull.

After breakfast, she wandered around the grounds, circling the main house, taking in the same views she'd seen a hundred times before.

Her steps took her-again-to the place where the madwoman was being kept. This time, it was quiet; the woman wasn't singing.

Clara craned her neck, looking up at the balcony and the windows. Everything was locked. Whoever that woman was, she was trapped here in Palm Bay, just like Clara-both of them prisoners of Dylan.

If you could call it a prison, though, it was a beautiful one.

Who was this woman, anyway? And how did she know Clara?

Clara stood there, lost in thought, for half an hour before finally heading back to the main house.

She turned to the housekeeper. "Did Dylan have breakfast?"

at five this morning, ma'am," the housekeeper replied. "He wanted

she waited for

to do-mostly, she just hoped for a chance to go out, even if it was

everything spinning out of control outside, she felt even more useless stuck

and stayed there until noon, when the sound of a car caught

right away-the engine sounded nothing

the front hall, just in time to see an elderly

stood up slowly, pretty sure she was

Mrs. Ferguson had that

unmistakable old-money

aura-elegant but intimidating. She

signature emerald

only burst of color

otherwise classic outfit.

but she was certain who this

her politely, "Mrs. Ferguson."

Beside her stood Tara.

in beautifully

the moment

on Clara, sizing her ter a few seconds,

up.

à looked away, bored.

in their world, looks alone didn't mean

had been

be Dylan's