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... , involuntarily recalling the confrontation in the tearoom earlier...

"You’re here? My good nephew..."

Rhys slammed the door shut behind him with a backhand, sealing off the false tranquility outside.

He walked to the tea table, braced his hands on it, leaned forward with eyes swirling with undisguised murderous intent: "Where did the photos come from?"

Philip Donovan chuckled lowly, his laughter like an old, wheezing bellows: "What? Scared? Scared that your littl ...

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And he looked back to see that she was biting her lower lip as though she greatly enjoyed that kiss.

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