Thomas Fraser commands his regiment with unyielding precision, but the arrival of his late superior's ward shatters the discipline he maintains at all costs. Eleanor's wide eyes and immediate compliance to his authority stir a forbidden hunger, one that risks both his upcoming appointment and the rigid self-control he cannot afford to lose.
Behind the locked door of the map room, with rain still falling outside, he gives the order for her to hold still. His scarred forearm rests near her as his hand lifts toward the laces at her throat, the key to his quarters heavy in her palm. She yields without question, yet her surrender threatens to expose the one vulnerability he has hidden from every battle.
