Scandalous Liaisons by Sylvia Day

immediate wakefulness at the sight of the massive sapphire that graced her ring finger. Her heart tightened. She didn’t have to look around to be certain.
    Sebastian was gone.
     
    As he threw open the door to his father’s bedroom, stealth was not the primary goal in Sebastian’s mind. Olivia’s scent rose up from his skin as his blood heated with fury. His father had deliberately set out to destroy his wife to attain his own ends. Sebastian would not tolerate it happening again. His father would know that for a certainty in a moment.
    He watched with grim satisfaction as his father shot up in the bed, startled by the sound of the door banging against the wall. The marquess glanced around with wild eyes.
    “Hang it all, Sebastian! What is the meaning of this?”
    “How fitting. The last morning we met was much like this, only it was I in the bed and you the wrathful figure in the doorway.” The memory still made the bile rise in his throat. He smiled with wicked intent as his father paled. “Ah . . . so you see my purpose.” He leapt onto the bed and pinned his father down, his hand forming a vice around the marquess’s neck.
    He would not leave his wife at the mercy of this monster.
    “You are fortunate that I have no desire to be a marquess, or I would kill you now and be done with you.”
    His father’s eyes bulged from the face that so resembled his own. What an odd bit of fate that was. Edmund had looked like their mother, sharing her reddish hair and moss green eyes.
    “Sebas—For God’s—” Dunsmore struggled like a man gone mad, his hands scratching at Sebastian’s wrists, drawing blood, his legs kicking convulsively beneath the counterpane.
    “Listen.” Sebastian dropped his face to within inches of his father’s. “You will stay away from my wife. Do not approach her for any reason. If I discover that either you or Carr went within seeing distance of Olivia, I’ll kill you.” His fingers tightened further, until his entire hand ached with the force he exerted. Then he released his father and moved off the bed.
    The marquess rolled to the edge of the mattress and cast up his accounts on the Aubusson rug. “I-I’ll . . . cut . . . you off . . .” he choked out, his stomach heaving.
    Sebastian laughed derisively. “If only that were possible. But everything is entailed except for your money, and I have no need of it. Spend it, burn it. I don’t care.”
    His father spat on the floor.
    Sebastian headed toward the door. “Remember, Father. Stay away from my wife.”
    After making the appropriate arrangements for Olivia with his solicitor, Sebastian stood on the deck of the Seawitch, watching the London skyline shrink as he left England behind. Like a coward, he wanted to flee the mess that was his family, and he fought the temptation to give in to the urge. It would be so easy to leave all the ugliness and never return, to escape the life for which he had no desire and find freedom elsewhere. But he had Olivia now, and he would suffer any ordeal, accomplish any feat, journey anywhere, as long as he could have her and be with her daily.
    He must free himself of his past—release his men, make arrangements for his ship, and sever his ties with the Robidoux brothers. He wasn’t certain how he would survive the upcoming weeks without his wife, but it was too dangerous to bring her with him.
    As England faded from view, Sebastian knew he would return as soon as he was able.
    He’d left his heart behind, and he could not live without her.
     
    Olivia barely made it through her morning toilet, consumed as she was by a dull, aching emptiness. She’d been so certain she could convince Sebastian to stay, or to at least take her with him, but part of her was not surprised that he had fled. It was a long-standing habit with him to run from his troubles. In his youth, he’d used drink and women to escape. Later, he’d used the sea and, for a time, her body. But apparently she hadn’t been