Page 184 of The Owner's Temptation

I lean closer. “Just hold onto me, okay baby?”

She nods again, slower this time. Trusting.

I rise, fix my own helmet, and swing onto the bike. My hands go to the handlebars and I hold one out behind me.

She climbs on, her legs settling behind mine. Then her arms wrap around my waist—tight. So tight.

She’s fucking terrified and it breaks my heart.

I cover her locked hands with one of mine and squeeze, just once.

Then I start the engine.

And we fly.

Away from the blood, away from the death.

Toward home.

The ride home is a blur.

Everything around me feels like echoes, as if I’m flying too fast through a tunnel and the world can’t keep up. I hear the wind, but it sounds hollow. I see lights, but they blur into meaningless color.

My arms are locked around Lucian, but even that feels distant—like I’m floating somewhere outside myself.

When the bike finally leans into the turn onto his long, winding driveway, something inside me breaks loose.

I start shaking.

Almost there. Just hold on a little longer.

I repeat it like a prayer.

I need off this bike. I need out of this jacket. I need this suffocating bodysuit peeled off me. I need to be held… or I might come apart entirely.

Lucian must feel it—sense the shift in me—because the moment he cuts the engine and kicks down the stand, he’s already turning around and I’m in his arms.

Strong. Steady. Unyielding.

He lifts me like I weigh nothing, one arm under my knees, the other tight behind my back, pulling me against his chest. Our helmets are on the ground in a second.

His lips find the top of my head, pressing soft kisses there, again and again as he murmurs low, calming words against my scalp.

“I’ve got you, angel. You’re okay. I’ve got you now.”

The tremble in me becomes a full-body quake, and I don’t realize I’m crying until the tears slide down over my lips. Silent. Hot.

Lucian doesn’t let go.

Inside, the house is dim. He moves through it like a man possessed, never once jostling me as he strides back toward his bedroom. Then—his bathroom that surrounds me in soft golden lighting.

He sets me down gently on the cool tile and steadies me, both hands on my waist until I nod. I can stand. IthinkI can stand.

He turns to the tub, checking the water, adjusting the temperature.

And that’s when I look down.

That’s when I see it.

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