“Yes, I do.” The dread that hung over her mugged Kelly, setting off a wave of overwhelming anxiety. Much like her, he hadn’t turned out the way his parents had planned. He was supposed to have been a worthy successor to the fortune of House Rogan. If Connor decided he wanted her dead, her magic, what little of it there was, wouldn’t be enough to stop him.Ĭonnor was the culmination of three generations of careful marriages aimed at bolstering the family’s magic and connections.
Sixteen years was a long time, but she was sure the wall hadn’t been there before.Ī wrought-iron gate blocked the arched entrance. The driveway brought them to a tall stucco wall. She had to deal with the reality, no matter how terrifying it was. A part of her wanted to turn the car around. A part of her wanted to go back and somehow undo the events of the last two days. His father would’ve had the weeds poisoned. Connor wasn’t taking care of the grounds. Old Texas oaks spread their wide canopies over the grassy lawn, sprayed with drops of yellow dandelions and pink buttercups. Tom stared straight ahead, glassy eyed, guiding the car up the curve of the driveway. “You told me yourself he hates his family.” Without it, she would have been screaming. That touch, fueled by twenty years of love, had served as her rock in the nightmarish storm of the past forty-eight hours. Strange how intimate a touch can be, she thought. He took his hand off the wheel and squeezed her fingers. Kelly Waller reached over and touched her husband’s hand, looking for reassurance.
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