Esme Neville has defied the parish priest once too often, and now her family's lands rest on his mercy alone. In the narrow vestry thick with the scent of beeswax and old paper, Clement Trevelyan's quiet command leaves her no room to retreat. She came seeking protection from the squire's claim, yet every glance from him reveals the price will be paid in ways far more intimate than she imagined.
His fingers brush the ledger before settling against the small of her back. The touch burns through layers of fabric, a silent order that makes her breath catch. Discovery would ruin them both, yet the thought only draws her closer to the line she has sworn never to cross.
She feels the moment stretch as he turns her toward the table, his palm firm and inescapable. The question remains whether she will accept the discipline that will bind her to him, or lose everything she has left to fight for.
