Late last eve, while watching her dither over which artifacts to choose, he’d realized with startling clarity, that it wasn’t merely her body he wanted in his bed, he wanted all of her, given without reservation. He wanted it nigh as much as he wanted to be free of the evil within him, as if the two were somehow intertwined. And the animal in him sensed her killing weakness: Chloe was a lass who could be trapped by the man who won her heart. Netted and kept for life. His strategy was no longer simple seduction; he was vying for the core of her, her very lifeblood.

A woman such as she—entrust you with her heart? his honor mocked. Have you lost your mind as well as your soul?

“Haud yer wheesht,” he growled softly.

The cab driver glanced at him in the rearview mirror. “Eh, what?”

“I wasn’t talking to you.”

And if you somehow manage to win her, what, then, will you do with her? his honor taunted. Promise her a future?

“Doona be trying to steal my now,” Dageus gritted. “’Tis all I own.” And since her advent into his life, the now held more interest for him than it had in a long time. He was a man who’d succeeded at living since the eve he’d turned dark, only by doing it hour to hour.

Shrugging at the cabbie who was now watching him with blatant unease, he reached in his pocket, double-checking to be certain the list and her key were there.

The key wasn’t. Thinking back, he realized he’d left it on the kitchen counter.

Though no one was more adept at breaking and entering than he, he did it only when necessary. And never in broad daylight.

He eyed the backed-up traffic impatiently. By the time the cab driver got them turned around in this mess, he could, like as not, be back at the penthouse on foot.

He shoved fare through the slot and stepped out into the rain.

Chloe shaved her legs with one of Dageus’s razors (studiously ignoring the cheeky little voice that volunteered the wholly unsolicited opinion that a girl didn’t need to shave when it was so cold out, unless she was planning to take her pants off for some reason), then stepped out of the shower and smoothed on lotion.

She moved into the bedroom, slipped into panties and bra, then packed a few things in the luggage he’d set out for her while the lotion absorbed into her skin.

She was going to Scotland.

She couldn’t believe it—how much her life had changed in just a few days. How much she seemed to be changing. In four days, to be exact. Four days ago she’d entered his penthouse, and today she was getting ready to fly across the ocean with him, with no idea what might come.

She shook her head, wondering if she’d completely lost her mind. She refused to ponder that thought too hard. When she thought about it, it seemed all wrong.