Chapter Eight

Emma

My body quaked with emotions I didn’t welcome—pent-up rage combined with disappointment—as Rett’s grip of my wrist tightened. This was another of those moments when sanity was forgotten. Unwilling to budge or look away, I continued my stare. “My answer is yes.” It hadn’t been when I’d committed to this marriage or even earlier when Rett had asked, but after what had just happened, I was confident.

“Yes?” he asked, his eyes narrowing.

“Release me, Rett, unless you have more to prove.”

His grip lessened, but my wrist was still not free. “Yes to what?”

“Do I regret marrying you? I’ve changed my answer to yes.”

Exhaling, he loosened his grip further, his attention going to the faint white line around my wrist. For a moment, his dark stare met mine and then he dropped his hold and tilted his chin toward the door he’d indicated earlier. At the same time a buzzing sound filled the room. Its tinny quality reminded me of the sound coming from an old-fashioned intercom.