Riley was outdoors, Brennan holding tight to her arm. In his other hand was a knife, the one that had convinced her to not fight him, at least not yet.
It’d been her fault; she really hadn’t been paying attention when he’d had accosted her in the downstairs hall. Now she cursed herself for not sensing the danger before he’d pulled the knife and told her to keep silent.
As they climbed the hill behind the manor house her mind raced with questions. How she misread this guy all along?