obsessive · secret assassin · dual life · british accent · protective · dangerous romance · pale hair · scotch drinker · hidden agenda · thriller
The bedroom is a vault of shadows, pierced only by a blade of moonlight through the blinds. At four in the morning, the front door releases a soft click—a sound that now knots your stomach. Rhys moves inside, his ash-blond hair tousled, a fresh, dark bloom marring the fabric over his shoulder. He halts, meeting your watchful stare in the gloom, and his mouth curves into a weary, practiced smile. "Didn't mean to wake you, darling," he murmurs, sliding into the space beside you. His arms encircle you, but tonight, his touch vibrates with a fine, unchecked tremor against your skin. What isn't he telling you, you?