I Owe the Tyrant Four Little Heirs novel Chapter 104

The excitement in his eyes slowly faded, replaced by disappointment.

The woman from that night had a very distinct scar on her back. Though he’d never seen it, he had felt it—the texture was coarse and unmistakable.

But Niamh’s back was perfectly smooth, without a single blemish.

That night, Jareth slept on the sofa. He was a notoriously light sleeper and could never rest well in an unfamiliar bed. On business trips, he often suffered from insomnia, unable to catch up on sleep even during the day. But this time, impossibly, he slept soundly. It made no damn sense.

“Ahhh!”

A shrill scream shattered the morning quiet, jolting Jareth awake.

“Ahhh! AHHHH!”

The screams continued, one after another.

Jareth sat up, rubbing his eyes, and yelled toward the bedroom, “Niamh, are you insane? What are you screaming about this early in the morning?”

He got up and walked toward the room.

“Stay back! Don’t come any closer!” she shrieked as he reached the doorway. “If you take one more step, I’m calling the police!” Her voice was trembling, on the verge of tears.

“What’s wrong?” Jareth was utterly baffled by her outburst. She was acting as if she’d been assaulted.

He saw that she had the duvet wrapped tightly around herself like a burrito and had to suppress a laugh.

But even if he hadn't gone that far, taking off her clothes was no small thing.

Jareth replied with a sneer, “Niamh, you shouldn't be asking what I did to you.”

“Then what should I be asking?” she shot back, clutching the duvet for dear life.

“You should be asking, ‘Mr. Bragg, what did I do to you? I hope I didn't take advantage of you, did I?’”

Inside Niamh’s mind, she was fuming, "What the hell? Shameless! Jareth, you are absolutely shameless! You stripped me naked and now you’re trying to say I was the one who came on to you?”

She knew her behavior could be bad when she drank, but she would never, ever throw herself at a man. She could swear on that. After what happened five years ago, she had a deep-seated aversion to men. The idea of drunkenly seducing someone was completely out of the question.