*Lucian*
“It’s my hand that is injured, not my legs,” she says as I sweep her into my arms as soon as she appears in the doorway of the coach intending to step out.
I had instructed my driver to go to my residence straightaway, to the back, where none will witness who is coming inside.
“Yes, but the faster I get you indoors, the more quickly I can have a look.” I tell her.
“I’m quite capable of moving quickly.” She huffs with slight irritation.
I hold her a little closer, “Stop complaining and just accept that on this matter you will not win.”
“Such a bully,” she mutters, before nestling her head more securely against my shoulder.
I’m smiling before I realize it. How is it that she manages to stir to life every emotion possible in me? First she irritates me like the devil, and then
