His words made Joyce Monroe's heart stop and threw her thoughts into chaos. She stiffly turned her head to look at Silas Thorne.
Her expression was a mask of pure shock and astonishment, completely out of her control.
The car was in motion. Beneath the curtain of rain, the streetlights were hazy, their glow filtering through the water-streaked windows. It was like an old silent film, the light inside the car flickering between dim and dark.
Silas Thorne was steeped in the dark shadows, his expression unreadable.
"Mr... Mr. Thorne, what did you just say?"
"You didn't hear me?"
"Yeah." Joyce Monroe even began to wonder if something was wrong with her hearing.
As she watched, Silas Thorne slowly leaned closer. The car's interior felt cramped and confining as the cool air he seemed to carry with him spread out, wrapping around her...
His eyes, full of a startling tenderness, were fixed on her. His voice was soft and gentle.
"Joyce, have you ever considered..."
