Tara barely remembered leaving the dining room.
The lunch had ended politely enough. Chairs scraping, polite goodbyes, Sylvie kissing her cheek and Marcus making some joke about the wine.
But the moment she stepped into the hallway, the anger she had kept contained at the table rushed up her spine.
Lyon.
The audacity of that man.
It had been a perfectly civil lunch between two families. Her father, Marcus, Sylvie, Dylan and somehow Lyon had managed to twist the entire thing into a battleground.
And worst of all, he had done it while smiling.
Her heels clicked sharply against the hallway floor as she climbed the staircase.
She knew exactly where she was going.
His old room.
Of course Marcus had put him back there.
The door was half closed. She didn't bother knocking. She pushed it open.
Lyon stood near the window, leaning against the desk like he had all the time in the world.
He turned slightly when the door opened.
"Tara." he acknowledged calmly.
