Chapter 16: Right Into His Arms
614 Words
Lydia Harper blinked, then froze as she noticed it—a faint flush creeping across Alexander Blackwood’s cheeks. She followed his gaze downward and immediately realized why.
Her neckline… too low. Way too low.
She gasped, hastily covering herself and darting off to change. Unbelievable. He was blushing but still staring? What a hypocrite.
She returned a few minutes later, wearing a more conservative red evening gown. Every step she took was careful, deliberate, avoiding his eyes entirely.
Alexander, however, remained composed, his expression unreadable. “There’s nothing special to see,” he said casually, his tone laced with a faint amusement.
Lydia wished the ground would swallow her. She rushed outside, nearly tripping over her own nerves.
As she opened the car door, his deep, smooth voice stopped her cold.
“Front seat.”
“Why?” she asked, unsure.
“To look like a couple,” he said simply.
“… Oh.” Right. She almost forgot.
The car sped through the quiet streets, the city lights flickering past like distant stars. Lydia’s pulse was still racing, though she tried to calm herself. The thought of sitting next to Alexander—so close, so intimate—made her stomach twist with nervous anticipation.
Soon, they arrived at the grand old mansion. Its towering façade was softened by the warm glow of exterior lights, elegant columns framing the entrance.
As they stepped out of the car, Alexander casually draped an arm around her waist.
Lydia stiffened instantly.
“What are you doing?” she whispered, tension lacing her voice.
He shrugged, a casual expression, almost teasing. “Do you think I want to? It’s for my grandmother. Get used to it.”
She had no choice but to comply, her steps quick and hesitant as they entered the house together.
Inside the mansion, the scent of polished wood and fresh flowers filled the air. Lydia had only taken a few steps when she froze.
A dog—a big one—stood in the hallway, tail wagging happily.
“Ahhh! A dog!” she shrieked, panic overtaking her. Without thinking, she threw herself into Alexander’s arms.
He flinched at the sudden weight and noise, about to scold her, but then froze. She was pressed against him—soft, warm, her faint perfume lingering in the air.
His hand moved instinctively, settling gently on her back. Almost… naturally.
“It’s okay,” he murmured softly, his voice low and calm. “It’s tied up. It won’t hurt you.”
Her fear began to fade, comforted by the security of his embrace. But then the realization hit her—she was still in his arms. And his hand… still resting lightly on her back.
Her cheeks burned. She jerked away as quickly as possible, embarrassment flooding every inch of her. Words failed her entirely.
Alexander’s eyes followed her, dark and unreadable, but there was a flicker of something—amusement? Approval?—hidden in his gaze. Lydia couldn’t tell.
She adjusted her dress, pacing forward to put some distance between them. But the warmth lingered, the faint brush of his hand imprinted in her mind. Her heart raced, a mixture of fear, frustration, and… something else she couldn’t name.
Even as she tried to compose herself, Lydia couldn’t shake the memory of being pressed against him—soft, safe, yet electrifying. It made her cheeks heat again and her pulse quicken.
This… this was Alexander Blackwood. Cold, commanding, untouchable. Yet somehow, tonight, he had shown a glimpse of something else—something quietly protective, instinctive, and undeniably intimate.
And Lydia Harper, still reeling from embarrassment, realized she was both terrified and captivated all at once.
- Writer
