I stood frozen as Arthur's gaze locked with mine from across the room. The air between us seemed to crackle with tension, and I could read his expression perfectly—stormy, possessive, and dangerously calm all at once.
But before Arthur could take a single step forward, the door behind him opened again, and a man I'd never seen before walked in.
He was tall with tousled dark hair, wearing muddy work boots and jeans that had clearly seen better days. A flannel shirt with rolled-up sleeves revealed tanned, muscular forearms. Despite his casual, somewhat disheveled appearance, he was undeniably handsome in a rugged way.
"Excuse me," he said, voice deep and pleasant. "I'm looking for Elara Dubois?"
The entire room went silent. Every head swiveled between me, Arthur still standing by the entrance, and this newcomer.
