EMILIA’S POV

The first thing I felt was his breath on my skin.

Hot. Rough. Possessive.

The second thing I felt was panic.

My heart slammed against my ribs as his arms locked tighter around me. My palms pressed against the hard wall of his chest, but he didn’t budge. His scent—earth, rain—was wild and strange.

And then came his growl.

“Why,” he rasped, his voice low and dangerous, “do you have another man’s scent all over you?”

My throat went dry.

He wasn’t just asking. He was accusing.

He leaned in closer, his nose at my neck again, inhaling me like a predator memorizing prey. “Not just any man,”...