A Room of Frozen Hearts
Mia was still in the doorway, her hand still on the handle of the trolley.
Cassidy was a step behind her, one step inside the room.
The two women were stilled.
Their mouths fell open, lips slack, as if the wind had been punched out of them. The aroma of tea and bread from the trolley blended with something much more potent — the dense, pungent smell of sweat, skin, roses, and sex. It lingered in the air like a storm that had yet to abate.
Within the house, Leon occupied the bed.
Unrepentant. Bare skin glinting softly under the morning sunlight, golden eyes shining, his lips curled in a smile so brilliant it sliced through the tight stillness. He slouched against the ornate headboard negligently, black hair spilling over the white pillow. He resembled nothing so much as a man trapped in scandal. He resembled a king sitting on a throne of heat and upheaval.
And standing guard around him…
Fifteen women.
