Harley’s P.O.V.

The sound of low rumbling growls tugged me out of sleep. It felt like someone near me was really, really pissed off. I blinked, rubbing my eyes, trying to peel away the grogginess clouding my head.

The voices were muffled at first, like echoes in a dream, but one of them cut through crystal clear.

“I won’t let you …”

Shoot!

Even half asleep, I didn’t need anyone to tell me that it was Carlos, probably scolding a servant nearby. My heart stuttered as I shot upright from the worktable, cursing myself.

Oh, my goddess!

It was supposed to be our first dinner as husband and wife, and...