“You seem to be in a foul mood, Your Grace,” Aaron’s tone dripped poison. “Have you… misplaced something?”
“My patience,” Leo threatened. “It comes in short supply and shouldn’t be tested. Unlike your nerve, which appears in endless, irritating surplus.”
Aaron’s smile widened, a predator pleased to have drawn blood. He took a leisurely sip of champagne, all but vibrating with satisfaction.
“I think you should enjoy the ball, Your Grace. everyone else does,” Aaron said. “Well…” he paused for dramatic effect. “Perhaps not everyone. Some found the ambiance rather taxing.”
The small hair in the back of Leo’s head flared at that comment. Leo held tight onto the last shred of logic because it was the only thing that kept him breathing.
“What did you do?”
“Nothing. What am I being accused of?”
“If you did anything to hurt her…’”
“I would never,” Aaron said in fake indignation.
“I have warned you. Do not mess with me.”
Aaron took one step forward. He pinned Leo with his look, and now he had dropped all pretenses of civility. His face distorted into a cruel mask as he leaned to Leo.
“It seems that for certain flowers, high society balls can be suffocating,” Aaron’s voice was a nasty combination of sarcasm and malice. “They might need a moment in the powder room.”
Leo would have loved to unleash his instincts and allow them to reduce Aaron into a bleeding, whimpering heap on the polished marble. He almost took that step and raised those fists. He knew, though, that it wouldn’t bring anything but temporary satisfaction. Aaron would have won. Leo took one small step, invading the younger lord’s space with his sheer size.
“I hope that I find her safe,” he rumbled. “Or I will personally demonstrate howsuffocatingcertain circumstances can be.”
Aaron was forced to raise his chin, and the smile was wiped from his face. Then Leo decided that he had wasted enough precious time with him and turned on his heels.
He all but ran to the powder room and, without any sense of propriety, he opened the door and slipped inside. The door closed behind him with a soft thud.
Prim stood there, both hands on the sink for support. She glanced up and saw him through the mirror with a look of utter shock.
“Leo,” she whispered. “What are you doing here?”
He didn’t answer, he just began a quick assessment of her situation. No visible tears, no physical harm he could see.
"Are you hurt?" The question tore from him, rough and stripped of all ducal polish.
“I…”
Prim turned and regarded him as if she were questioning the fabric of reality. Leo took a step and was near her, his gaze scanning her face.
“Did anyone hurt you? Said anything to you?” His voice then dropped to a dangerous snarl. “Did anyone touch you?”
“Leo, I… I am fine. Nothing that I couldn’t handle. What are you doing here? And by here I also mean inhere.”
He allowed his breathing to come to a more normal pace, his body slightly to relax. The worst he had imagined stayed thankfully just that, figments of his imagination. But no, that the dread dissipated, another sentiment walked in and claimed his soul. He took another step, pushing her against the sink, the opulent room feeling suddenly too small. Prim raised her chin, her jaw dropped at his searing look.
“What areyoudoing in here?” He growled.
Prim clenched her jaw and raised her eyebrow.
“Powdering my nose.”
Leo felt pure, undiluted fury at her defiance. He placed one hand on the sink behind her, caging her in, his body leaning intimidatingly toward her.
“Powdering your nose.” His voice was a lethal whisper. “In the house of the people I have warned you about? Of those, you use yourself as a weapon to hurt me? I never took you for a fool, Prim.”
