Steeling myself, I turn to face him. His eyes are trained on me. Green eyes the color of clover and spring grass. They are too beautiful for such a horrible man. “There is a difference between disrespect and speaking the truth. Why are you in such a rush to get married?”
“That is no concern of yours.”
“It certainly feels like my concern,” I retort. “Plus, I’m not in the habit of taking orders for the sake of taking orders. I’m not one of your soldiers.”
His massive hand is around my wrist before I can even blink, and I gasp. He isn’t gripping me hard or hurting me, but I know without trying that I won’t be able to pull my hand free. It is yet another reminder of how powerless I am against Luka. Of how easily he can overpower me. His hand slides down my hand, squeezing and forcing me to
