'Wh-what is he saying?'
'He wants another kiss?'
In that instant, Joyce Monroe felt as if she could hear her own blood rushing. A surge of heat, perhaps fueled by the alcohol, sent a blush creeping across her skin.
Her ears turned red first,
and then her entire face was dusted with a faint pink.
Her heart pounded violently, making her head spin and filling her with a sense of unreality.
"Scared?" Silas Thorne asked, looking down at her.
"A little nervous."
Silas Thorne had always been self-disciplined and reserved, a picture of asceticism. To hear such words from him was nothing short of shocking.
But she didn't know that what Silas Thorne wanted…
was actually much more.
'When I saw Jasper Quinn, I felt myself on the verge of losing control.'
'I wanted to rush over and snatch her away.'
'I wanted to hold her, touch her, kiss her.'
'People are greedy. There's no such thing as enough. No matter how much you have, you can't control the avarice in your heart.'
