With heavy footsteps echoing, Gordon Hayworth's imposing figure filled Tracy's vision.
Yet Tracy could detect faint traces of exhaustion in his sharp features. His aloof gaze landed on her, lingering over the bandage wrapped around her ankle.
"You came?"
Just as Tracy uttered those words and tried to rise, Gordon's deep voice pinned her in place.
"Don't move."
Her mouth pulled into a frown. What was this? Don't move? Mid-motion, his command froze her like a statue.
What's going on?
"I'll carry you. Your leg's injured."
Tracy's eyes locked onto his unfairly handsome face. Why did his sharp features seem to soften just then?
Absolutely not.
"Gordon, just help me walk. That's enough."
She bit back the urge to snap, "Skip the princess treatment." If he took offense and stormed off,
