After Maria married James, he started to beg James for money with the promise that he'd use it to take care of Linda and Sophia. James was too kindhearted to refuse and gave Tom whatever he asked for. But Tom gambled and drank the money away, and Linda was forced to take on whatever work she could to support her daughter.

Catherine shook her head to clear away the unhappy memories, but she couldn't shake the image of Sophia crying. Throughout their friendship, Sophia had often broken down—crying about the horrible things her father had shouted at her or the way she'd seen him hitting her mother.

​​

Sean's low voice interrupted her unhappy thoughts, "You're sighing again."

"I know," she said. "I'm thinking about Linda and Sophia."

"They're going to be okay," he said. "I promise."

"I know," she sighed. "And I'm really grateful for everything you're doing. I just hate to trouble you with all my problems."

"It's not trouble," he said, his voice even lower. "I want to help."

He took one hand off the wheel and placed it gently on her thigh. She watched him from the corner of her eye, worried he was trying to make a move, but his expression was calm, and the slight pressure of his hand was strangely reassuring.

"I wish I'd done something for them before," she whispered.

"You're doing something now," he replied.

"I just hope it's not too late," she said.

"It won't be," he said.

He steered the car down the familiar country road that led to his mansion and pulled it through the ornate gates. As the house appeared from behind the trees, the windows glowed warm and yellow in the night. A sense of relief washed over her—after everything that had happened, the mansion almost felt like home.

Sean helped her out of the car and led her to the front door. Just inside, Geoffrey was waiting for them. Her freckled face was serious and calm.

"What's the news?" Catherine asked.

"He's being detained at the police station, Mrs. Blair," she said.

"Good," Catherine said. "And the charges?"

"What charges?" Sean asked.

"I want to charge him with domestic abuse," she answered. "I want the court to allow Linda to divorce him without a long and public trial."

"Does Linda want to divorce him?" Sean asked.

"I don't know," she answered honestly. "But I know Sophia and Maria will do everything in their power to convince her when she wakes up."

"That's the problem, Mrs. Blair," Geoffrey said. "In order to fully press charges, the police need a statement from Linda—they need her to be conscious."

"But who knows when she'll wake up," Catherine said. "There has to be another way."

"I'll ask my lawyers to look into it," Sean said, grabbing her by the waist. "But you have to promise me one thing."

"What?" she asked.

"You have to stay far away from Tom," he answered. "I don't want you putting yourself at risk again."

Catherine sat on the edge of the bed, lost in thought. From the bathroom, she could hear the hiss of water as Sean showered. Suddenly the sound stopped and Sean emerged from the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist.

His fair hair was dark with water and he ran his fingers through it slowly. Droplets of water trickled down his shoulders, dripping down his sculpted chest and washboard abs. She watched the water trail down his body and imagined tracing the same path with her fingertips—the warmth of his skin under her hands, the hard pull of his muscles just beneath.

"What are you looking at?" he asked.

She felt her cheeks go hot and forced herself to look up at his face.

"Nothing," she said. "I was just thinking."

"Your hair is still wet," he said. "Why don't you dry it?"

"Right, good idea," she said.

She jumped to her feet and rushed toward the bathroom, but a pair of powerful arms caught her. Sean pulled her close to his chest and kissed the top of her head. Through her thin silk camisole, she could feel the damp warmth of his skin, and she shivered. He tilted her head backward and pressed his lips against hers, and her heart hammered rapidly in her chest.

Reluctantly he pulled away and stared deep into her eyes. She stared back at him for a moment, feeling a strange heat creep through her body. He smirked, and she came to her senses. Pressing her palms against his pair chest, she pushed him away.

"You're getting me wet," she complained.

His eyes brightened, and his smirk grew bigger, "Oh, am I?"

"Not like that, you perv," she said, feeling her blush deepen.

She pushed past him and raced into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her. As she blow dried her hair, she tried to calm the frantic beating of her heart. Sean had kissed her dozens of times before, but she'd never reacted so strongly. She closed her eyes and focused on the hum of the blow dryer and the heat of the air on her scalp and neck.

When she finished, she ducked into the closet, changing her wet pajamas for another pair. She eyed the skimpy silk nightgowns and shorts, wishing it was colder so Sean would have to give her longer pajamas. With a sigh, she selected a matched shorts and camisole set made from black silk embroidered with small daisies. She tugged it on and returned to the bedroom, worried that Sean would make another move.

She was surprised to find him sitting in bed and reading. When she came out, he only glanced at her before returning to his book. Relieved, she crossed the room, grabbed a stack of fashion magazines, and climbed into bed. Slowly, she paged through the first, looking for design inspiration.

"What are you doing?" he asked, leaning over to look at the magazine.

"Studying the best," she answered.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"These designers are the best in the world," she answered. "The people who shop at Feather Textile Corporation's stores can't afford these designs, but I want to give them something similar. I thought I might be able to take some of these ideas and adapt them to our customers."