She was bored.
True to his word Frost had not made contact with her in any way since their kiss in the corridor on the first day she had been brought here.
That was seven months ago.
Seven months was a long time. Even longer when you spent it basically alone.
There were people who worked here, Astor knew that. Every day when she went to spend time outdoors she would return to her room later to find it cleaned. And meals appeared at her door three times day. The gardens were kept immaculately so she knew there was a gardener. But somehow they managed to keep out of sight matter how hard she tried to find someone-anyone-to talk to.
He watched her often from through the windows of the mansion. Sometimes she caught a glimpse of him, other times she could feel his eyes on her even thought she couldn’t see him.
He was waiting for her to cave and she hated to admit it but she was getting pretty close. Anything-even giving herself to him like he wanted-had to be better than this.
What was worse was that part of her wanted to give herself to him.
Astor couldn’t explain it but she was drawn to him like a moth to the flame.
Which was going to make it so much harder for her to do what she had to do.
He thought that she was going to be his but he was wrong, he was going to be hers.
“Oh dear,” she exclaimed as she dropped her mug, sending it crashing into the floorboards and shattering into a thousand pieces. With no one else to talk to she had taken to talking to herself out loud. She didn’t bother to clean up, one of the maids would no doubt have it tended to before she came back.
Right now she had someplace she needed to be.