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Conversation used to flow so easily between us. It was one of the things I liked most about him. I never had to worry about saying the wrong thing or talking too much or speaking too loudly.
But silence fell heavy as we walked together down the hidden hallway that wrapped from our rooms to the main dining and ball rooms. If we’d turned the other way, we’d find the kitchens and stock closets.
The sound of music had been drifting through the house for a while, increasing in volume in time with the arrival of new guests. The chatter got louder with each step down the hallway, my stomach tightening with nervous anticipation.
I stopped short a few feet from the door before the thought to do it fully formed.
“Are you—”
“My necklace,” I explained, cutting off Lukas’s question. Thankfully, it still hung from my fingers, giving me the perfect excuse for my pause.
I swept my hair over my shoulder with one hand, then went to unclasp the necklace. I looped my hands around my neck, moving on instinct instead of sight to merge the clasp and the hook.
Lukas stepped close, the heat of his skin folding into my exposed shoulders and back.
I sucked in a breath quietly, trying to focus on the necklace. But my hands were growing shaky, the metal slipping and missing its target two times in a row. Frustration rumbled low in my throat as I tried for a third time, only for the hook to fall out of my fingers.
“Let me,” Lukas said, his words landing in the air atop my head. I could really do without the reminder that he could eclipse the sun and plunge me into shadows just by standing close.
It was only smart to let him put the necklace on for me, I reasoned with myself. I’d tried and failed three times.
“Okay,” I breathed, handing him the necklace over my shoulder. Lukas grabbed it, his strong, battle-hardened hands cradling it with unusual grace.
One of his hands reached out to move hair off the base of my neck and my knees almost buckled. The rough scrape set my sensitive skin on fire.
Lukas’s arms came over me next, placing the necklace down on my chest and pulling upwards so that it rested close to my throat.
“Move your hair,” he said, the words coasting the skin of my neck. He must have leaned down to see the delicate clasp better.
Words lost, I silently tucked my hand under my hair, twisting to grab it and lifting so that the chain sat neatly around my neck. Lukas’s focused, easy breaths dropped onto my skin like splashes of sun-soaked water. Warmth tickled down my skin to settle between my legs, heavy and pulsing.
“My mother gave you this, right?”
“What?”
“My mother,” Lukas repeated, just as he laid the secured clasp back down on the top of my spine. “She gave you this necklace.”
I reached up, my hand settling over the stone to adjust it, but Lukas’s hand beat me to it, snaking over my shoulder to lightly tug the diamond down.
“Yes,” I all but croaked, the end of the word breaking off as Lukas stepped around to face me. “Is she going to be here tonight?”
His mother—Sophie—was a flashing, megawatt sign at the top of the apology list. I’d probably cry during it, and I didn’t want an audience for that.
“No,” Lukas said, standing close even though there was room between me and the door. “She’s visiting Mila.”
Adrian’s mother and her closest friend. “When will she be back?”
“A few days,” Lukas said, eyes turning observant. “Why?”
“I want to say hi.” It felt like a weak attempt at a response, but it appeared to hit Lukas like a ton of bricks.
His jaw hardened, the joint pulsing. “You don’t have the right to say hi to her when you left without a word.”
“I was planning on apologizing,” I defended. She’d treated me with nothing but genuine, motherly kindness.
Lukas scoffed, his arms coming to cross over his chest. “I didn’t realize you were giving those out.”
His anger burned down my filter, shoving out an honest answer. “Not to you.”
