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intensity. 
     
    She turned back to look at him, her green eyes wide with the alarm his touch instilled in her.  Instead of throwing the bills at him, she crushed them in her fist with one hand and rushed out the door with the other, racing blindly away from a man who had broken through her defenses and made her feel what her father had always been telling her she was.  She was wanton and the feelings stormed through her, even as she raced to the elevator. 
     
    Good grief!  Was she really the slut her father had accused her of?  The elevator doors opened up and she almost fell inside, desperate to get away from him. 
     
    She’d convinced herself that she wasn’t like that.  Her father had picked out several men in the past to escort her to various functions but they had all left her cold, revolted even.  How could such a simple, brief touch have made her react so violently then? 
     
    No!  She wasn’t evil or sluttish.  She wasn’t the whore her father had claimed she was.  Thankfully Tim was still waiting by the curb with the car and she swung herself into the back seat , desperate to get away from the Montenegro building. 
     
    Tim must have understood since he drove away quickly, not asking her where she wanted to go. 
     

Chapter 4
     
    Emma sat on the cold, stone bench watching the sun set on the horizon.  The air was damp around her with the smell of spring teasing her.  The cold of the air and the stone bench seeped into her body but she didn’t care.  It had been a glorious ly sunny day but she hadn’t enjoyed any of it.  She h ad in fact been terrified of the repercussions of her message, but forced herself to follow through on her plan. 
     
    Would he have received the message yet?  And would he even bother to read it if he had?  She’d woken up this morning, determined to change her life by taking charge and not being a doormat any longer .  O ne of those changes was that she would never subject herself to the humiliation and fear that her father had instilled in her. 
     
    Oh, Jason Montenegro would never physically hurt her. And she couldn’t imagine him yelling in like a lunatic, which was what her father sometimes looked like when he’d reached the heights of his passionate rage .  But Jason could still hurt her if she let him.  But as of today, she would no longer let any man hurt her or wound her pride again. 
     
    She wasn’t sure how she had the courage to do it but she’d sat down this morning and written a note, then asked Tim to deliver it to Jason Montenegro’s office. 
     
    Ever since Tim had left, Emma had been wondering what the man’s reaction would be.  And now she had it.  Nothing.  Not even a return note acknowledging and accepting her backing out of the wedding. 
     
    “Excuse me,” a female voice said from behind her. 
     
    Emma turned slowly and smiled slightly at the sight of her father’s housekeeper standing on the stone path behind her , hands nervously clenched in front of her as if she expected someone to snap at her any moment .  “Yes, Ms. McGregor?” she prompted with as much kindness as she could muster.  The woman had dealt with a great deal from her father.  Emma wanted to be completely different. 
     
    Nancy McGregor had been her father’s housekeeper ever since Emma had been born but had never spoken to her except to relay messages over the years from her father.  But Emma had hidden in the kitchens on more than one occasion, and this woman had turned a blind eye, never giving her father the slightest hint that his daughter was hiding somewhere in her domain . 
     
    Nancy looked down and then back at Emma, her hands twisting in her apron.  “I couldn’t help but notice the announcement in the newspapers this morning,” she said.  “About your wedding coming up tomorrow ,” she said, her hands releasing the apron and her palms rubbing against her upper thighs nervously. 
     
    Emma hadn’t read the newspaper this