'To hell be this morning, ′ Cord cursed as another day greeted him complete with the morning sun blaring against the castle rooftops. He wore no blindfold on, sitting in his throne chair with a lazy posture, enshrouded by his liquid shadows. He expected a peaceful rest to overtake him, but the contrary happened.
Dammit, the woman was like an alarm clock to him.
Every sure beat of the Amanda’s heart was like a lullaby, but it wasn’t an invitation to sleep, it was an invitation to listen more along with her footsteps all over the hallways.
She must be having another tour with the maid, he mused. Would have been better if I did it.
But of course he couldn’t. Wouldn’t.
After his moment of weakness last night, he promised to harden himself and he was damned sure to do just that.
Not like he wasn’t already doing it.
