His hair, chestnut when he was younger, had turned dark brown, almost black. Sixteen years later, he stood taller than her.

She remembered a thin boy with striking pale blue eyes. In its place stood a two-story Mediterranean-style mansion, with cream walls and a dark red roof. The large colonial beast of a house with white walls and distinguished colonnades was gone. The path turned, and she stopped, frozen. She walked through the arch and up the stone path that wove its way through the picturesque copse of oaks, redbuds, and laurels. Kelly raised her head and stepped inside. She forced herself to touch the iron gates. She jerked the car door open, jumped out, and hurried to the gate, her heels clicking on the pavement. Our life insurance policies are in there, and the will. There is a blue folder in the cabinet over the small desk, the one in the kitchen. If something does, if I don’t come out, I want you to drive away. “Tom, I don’t think anything bad will happen. She had no doubt they were being watched and probably listened to. She never knew if Connor could read people’s thoughts, but he was always aware of emotions. He might see you as a threat.” She swallowed again, but the clump in her throat refused to disappear. She swallowed, trying to clear her throat. “Yes, I do.” The dread that hung over her mugged Kelly, setting off a wave of overwhelming anxiety. Much like her, he hadn’t turned out the way his parents had planned.

He was supposed to have been a worthy successor to the fortune of House Rogan. If Connor decided he wanted her dead, her magic, what little of it there was, wouldn’t be enough to stop him.Ĭonnor was the culmination of three generations of careful marriages aimed at bolstering the family’s magic and connections. Sixteen years was a long time, but she was sure the wall hadn’t been there before.Ī wrought-iron gate blocked the arched entrance. The driveway brought them to a tall stucco wall. She had to deal with the reality, no matter how terrifying it was. A part of her wanted to turn the car around. A part of her wanted to go back and somehow undo the events of the last two days. His father would’ve had the weeds poisoned. Connor wasn’t taking care of the grounds. Old Texas oaks spread their wide canopies over the grassy lawn, sprayed with drops of yellow dandelions and pink buttercups. Tom stared straight ahead, glassy eyed, guiding the car up the curve of the driveway. “You told me yourself he hates his family.” Without it, she would have been screaming. That touch, fueled by twenty years of love, had served as her rock in the nightmarish storm of the past forty-eight hours. Strange how intimate a touch can be, she thought.

He took his hand off the wheel and squeezed her fingers. Kelly Waller reached over and touched her husband’s hand, looking for reassurance.

Read burn for me ilona andrews