Lianne immediately realized he was referring to her as the "tender grass" in the idiom about an older man robbing the cradle.
And she... had just agreed to it.
"That's not right." Seth's eyes were fixed on her, a faint smirk playing on his thin lips. "You're the one who had her fill of me, not the other way around. I should be calling you the 'young cow'."
Lianne: "...?"
'A young cow eating old grass?'
"Come have breakfast," Seth said, then headed for the dining room.
Lianne had already tried the front door. It had a passcode, so she couldn't get out. If she wanted to escape, there was only one path—through the back garden to Ethan Sinclair's house.
It was a way out, but the destination was... a death trap.
The Australian-style breakfast was lavish: steak, an açaí bowl, fettuccine, and a stewed tomato and vegetable salad.
Lianne tried a french fry. It had a unique flavor, unlike anything she'd had before. It was delicious.
