Lucy walked toward the back corner, her heart hammering against her ribs. She had seen the headlines. She had seen the photo of Adrian looking like a madman.
Jonathan was already there. He was sitting at a small, cramped wooden desk tucked between two bookshelves. It was a spot meant for one person, but he had already pulled up a second chair, leaving almost no space between them.
"You're late, my muse," Jonathan said, not looking up from his sketchbook. A small smile appeared on his lips. "I was beginning to think the Duke had finally kidnapped you."
Lucy sat down, her shoulder brushing against his. The desk was so narrow that their legs were forced to tangle under the wood. Every time she moved, her thigh brushed against his denim jeans. "The Duke is the least of my worries today. Did
