"You support the head," Dorian replied, flipping through one of his books. "Apparently they can't-uh-stabilize it
for weeks."
Crispin frowned. "And then what?"
"I suppose you... keep holding it," Dorian said grimly.
It was, Rune thought, like the blind leading the blind. But he was earnest, worried even, and when she caught sight of his notes later, pages filled with diagrams and bullet points, her chest fluttered in a way she couldn't quite deny, even to herself. It was hard to hold on toher grudges when he was trying so hard to change from an ogre into a prince. He was endlessly patient...except for that one time.
He was driving her home from work and she had been in bad mood since morning. It was lonely stretch of road and she knew she was behaving like a brat, but she just couldn’t help herself. Suddenly he parked on the shoulder, and before she knew it, he was unbuckling her seatbelt. She gasped as he hauled her backward, momentum stealing her balance, her body colliding with his front in a way that stole all the air from her lungs.
“Don’t,” she whispered, panic flaring too late.
He didn’t answer.
He pulled her onto his lap in one swift motion, locking her there. His arm banded across her middle, pinning her against him, every inch of her suddenly aware of how little room she had to move. The strength in his restraint shocked her — not violent, but definitely not letting go.
“Alright, we are going to talk this out like adults,” he murmured, voice low and tight with frustration barely leashed. “Tell me what is wrong. Don’t hide from me.”
Her pulse thundered as she struggled instinctively, then froze, realizing her skirt had ridden up. His chest rose sharply behind her, heat seeping through layers of fabric, his familiar scent overwhelming her senses. His other hand slid to her hip, holding her still when her body betrayed her with a shudder.
Anger rolled off him in waves — controlled, simmering, dangerous. It terrified her how quickly it tangled with something else entirely.
“Stay still,” he whispered against her ear, softer now, the command threaded with something that made her hild her breath. “I won’t hurt you.”
Her thoughts scattered as awareness narrowed to sensation: his breath at her neck, the tension in his arms, the way he held himself rigid as if restraint cost him something. Her body responded despite her fear, despite the humiliation burning her cheeks.
A strangled sound escaped her before she could stop it.
“What was that?” he asked as he tried not move his hardness against her soft buttocks.
She couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak.
“Rune, are you okay?”
Panic flooded her, choking her ability to form words. She was too aware of him behind her, too aware of how impossible it was to pretend nothing was happening.
His arms tightened around her as his hips moved in helpless thrust.
“Don’t worry,” he murmured. “I’ll keep you safe.”
She didn’t know how he could sound so composed when they were out here on the road where anyone could see them.
His hand skimmed her him to cup her between her thighs and rub her clit unerring through thin cotton. Her head fell back as his fingers worked their magic. Within seconds, her inner muscles were spasming over nothing, the wetness seeping into the fabric of her panties. He pressed one large finger into her opening through the cotton into her opening as she came, as if enjoying her pleasure.
Then, he was gently settling her back in her seat and reaching around her to click her seatbelt in place. Still in a daze, she watched as he started the car and drove home without another word.
From that point, he kept his distance because he could sense she was not ready to let go of her hostility. Sometimes she wondered if she had dreamt up what happened in the car because he carried on as if it never happened. On the sofa, there was always space between them unless she offered her feet. But slowly, that gap closed. One evening, she must have drifted off mid-sentence because she woke to find herself being carried.
He moved carefully, opening her door with his hip, then tucking her beneath the covers with a tenderness that had her blinking back tears. His hand lingered at her temple, then he bent and pressed a soft, wistful kiss to her forehead. For a moment, he seemed to hesitate. And then, almost as if against his will, his lips brushed hers, gentle, uncertain. Both unfamiliar territory for Dorian. Rune stirred, half-asleep, instinctively leaning into him. Her hand found his collar and tugged him closer. He broke away, breathing hard, his expression conflicted. "As much as I'd like to stay," he said quietly holding her sleeping hands in both of his, "I need you to forgive me first." Then he left the room, closing the door softly behind him, leaving her staring into the dark with her pulse racing and her thoughts in chaos.
Chapter thirty-four
Chapter 34
It was Friday afternoon. Rune shut her laptop and rubbed the bridge of her nose. The office was half-empty, the glow from the setting sun turning the dust motes in lazy gold.
"Don't forget our plans tonight!" Eleri called from across the corridor, coat slung over one arm.
