He was in my dungeon?” Nora demanded. “That’s also the good news.” “Please tell me someone caught him in the act.” “Let’s just say you owe our friend Griffin Fiske a debt of gratitude. I can guess in what form he’ll take repayment.” “Griffin?” “I underestimated Griffin. He’d make an excellent bodyguard. I should apologize to the man.” “How bad is it?” “Let’s just say you’re going to need to a new rug, Maîtresse. Yours is...bloody. And the culprit is in the hospital.” Nora listened for a few minutes as Kingsley told her the story. They hung up and Nora returned to the living room and found Lance picking his shirt up off the floor. “You’re not going to need that,” she said, nodding at the shirt in his hands. “Why not?”
