Page 45 of Dragon King’s Duty Bride

There it was. King mode. It was the voice he used in council meetings when someone had overstepped. Calm, authoritative, and impossible to contradict.

Heat flared in her cheeks. “We are in the middle of the woods,” she pointed out. “Far from prying eyes.”

His gaze sharpened. “That doesn’t make it wise.”

“It was music, Lucas.”

“It was private.”

“And?”

“And,” he said as he stepped closer, “people talk.”

The way he said it made something twist inside her. Not fear. Not quite anger. Could it be jealousy?

The thought startled her.

She tipped her chin higher. “You think I was doing something improper.”

“I think,” he replied, each word clipped, “that you deserve better than whispered speculation and a musician who looks at you like…”

“Like what?” she demanded.

His mouth snapped shut. The air between them felt charged. Dangerous.

She hated this. Hated the accusation in his eyes. Hated that he cared. Hated that she cared that he cared.

“Perhaps,” she said tightly, “you’re overstepping.”

She turned with the full intention of making a dramatic, dignified exit.

It would have worked beautifully if her boot hadn’t caught on a pile of loose leaves. Her injured foot slid backwards and the world lurched once again. For a breathless second, she was positive that she was going to hit the ground face-first.

Instead, strong arms caught her. Her hands flew to his chest. Solid and unyielding.

Lucas.

He’d moved faster than she could process. One arm braced around her back with the other firm at her waist. Her body pressed fully against his.

Time forgot how to move.

Her breath stuttered. She could feel the steady thud of his heart beneath her palm and feel his body heat through the thin fabric of his shirt. A spark flickered low in her stomach.

It wasn’t the first time he’d caught her. But it felt different now. His gaze dropped to her lips and desire flared through her sharp and bright… and terrifying.

“I’ve got you,” he murmured again, but softer this time.

The anger had drained from his face. In its place was something far more dangerous. Concern, yes. But also awareness.

She became acutely conscious of every place they touched. Of how safe she felt. Her heart did that traitorous thing again.

“I was not,” she whispered, “in danger of falling.”

He raised a brow. “Oh, really? You were almost horizontal.”

“That is an exaggeration.”

A corner of his mouth twitched. And just like that, the tension shifted. He adjusted his grip to test her balance as if to release her, but her ankle protested the moment her weight shifted.