Page 77 of Stroke of Shadows

Harper placed the money on the seat beside her. “No, thank you.”

Cruz grinned, but it wasn’t friendly. “There’s a reason my father wants us to marry, and it’s not because you’ll give him beautiful grandchildren.”

He reached forward to brush her hair over her shoulder, his touch lingering on her bare shoulder.

“Do you know what it is?”

His fingers brushed the top of her breast, and Harper’s heart pounded. Gently, she shook her head.

“He wants power over your uncle. The great Angel Beauchamp asking a Crow for a union. Honestly, when my father told me, I almost pissed myself laughing. Your uncle thinks he’s better than us. Better than everyone, actually.”

“I’m not my uncle,” she whispered, stiffening as his finger dipped inside her dress, tracing the cup of her bra.

“No, but you’re still a Beauchamp.” With a quick flick, he yanked down the front of her dress.

Harper shot to her feet, bag falling to the floor.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Cruz grabbed her arm, pulling her towards him. He was a few inches taller than her with her heels, his breath stinking of beer. “It’s a pretty dress, but I’m sure you look better without it.”

Harper yanked against his hold. “Release me.”

“Let me explain how this is going to go.” He moved them until her back knocked against the wall. “You’re going to be silent. Obedient.”

His fingers moved over her breasts, down her stomach until they danced at the hem of her dress.

“You’ll be a good wife and spread your legs.”

She tried to speak, but anxiety had wound its way around her lungs.

He tugged up her dress, moving slowly.

“I’m going to treat you like the whore you are. Fuck you. Share you. Anything I want, and you’re going to smile and say thank you. Aren’t you, fiancée?”

Harper’s chest rose and fell in rapid succession, the panic growing until she could barely breathe.

“I think you should show some appreciation to your future husband.”

His hand moved higher and higher until her underwear was exposed, his fingers pressing between her thighs.

Numbness in her fingertips.

No. No. No!

She couldn’t have an episode there. She wouldn’t be able to fight back.

“Get off me!” With as much strength as she could she kicked out, her knee connecting to his groin.

“Fuck!” Cruz’s grip loosened, and Harper managed to scramble to the side while he dropped to his knees. “You fucking bitch!”

The numbness began to spread, and she knew she didn’t have long until she’d lose the ability to use her hands. With tears streaming down her cheeks, she grabbed her bag and stumbled to the door, managing to open it enough for her to pass through. Tom met her eyes, his smirk turning to a frown, when Cruz’s angry shout reverberated through the restaurant.

Harper barely managed to move herself out of his way as he barrelled past, the other man hot on his heel. The restaurant had quietened, all the attention on her. Backing away, she turned, finding herself inside the kitchen.

“Get out of here!” came a shout, the chef holding a sharp knife. “Someone call security!”

“Sorry,” Harper mumbled, finding the emergency exit. The alley was slim, and she took a second to compose herself.

Pressing herself against the brick until she felt every sharp edge. The numbness had eased, replaced with pins and needles. Wiping a hand across her face, she fumbled inside her bag, finding her phone and dialling the number she’d memorised.

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