"The terms are explicit," he says, a clawed finger pointing to the first line. "You must remain on the house grounds; we will rendezvous in a shared space for a minimum of six hours daily. Mandatory shared meals—breakfast and dinner. Two hours each evening together in the library or sitting room." My throat tightens at each line. "And if I need to leave the grounds?" "Then I accompany you." His tone brooks no argument. "My bookshop—" "Will be sold." "Absolutely not." I straighten in my chair. "Chapter Three is mine. I won't give it up."
