Chapter twelve

Samara was not particularly proud of what she did last night. It was out of character, irresponsible, and unscrupulous. Last night has left a mark on her soul that she feared the stain would never wash away. But it also left her wanting more, that she thought of nothing else but meeting Damien again. The way he had touched her and made her feel last night has ignited a fire in her and left a burning need for his touch.

Her eyes suddenly fell on the envelope on her breakfast tray that Madeleine had brought in for her this morning. She knew what it meant, that plain envelope was addressed to her. Her husband, Frederick Smyth, had written to her. But she wasn't curious to read it, she wasn't bothered to know what it said. She considered ignoring it, pretending the post had gone astray and she had never received it. She explored this idea while she took her breakfast, letting the envelope lie where the maid had left it on the tray.

Samara pursed her lips and let her eyes wander about her