Women were something best bought, he’d found. Pay them, f*ck them, and send them away in the morning. That way avoided tears, recriminations, and feminine disappointment. Oh, and small things like being slapped across the face. Mick rubbed his jaw. But Silence wasn’t one of his whores, as Harry had pointed out. Mick couldn’t send her away. And he couldn’t let her starve herself—he wouldn’t let anyone hurt her, including herself.

Author: Elizabeth Hoyt