“Restraints?” “No rope,” she said, shaking her head. “I’ve tried those stupid fuzzy cuffs before. The ones you get when you’re shopping for a hen party. I didn’t really mind them, but they pinched.” Silas stifled a laugh. “Those handcuffs are for amateurs. Mine are wide handstitched leather lined with suede.” “Sounds nice.” Ivy sipped her tea. “They are.” “Would you… Is there a way to get out of them quickly? Or on my own?” The red in his eyes slipped into onyx black. “Were you left restrained without your consent?” He snarled. “I…” She struggled to find the words. “It wasn’t on purpose. The
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