Damien didn't put her down. He carried her through the labyrinth of the estate, his grip on her thighs bruisingly tight, ignoring the servants who scattered out of their path like frightened birds.
Aria wrapped her arms around his neck, burying her face in the crook of his shoulder. She could hear the heavy, furious rhythm of his heart against her chest, a war drum that matched the frantic, erratic beating of her own.
For all her bravado downstairs—the finger-licking, the taunts—the reality of what was about to happen was starting to crash down on her. She was about to do something she had never done, with a man who looked ready to burn the world down just to get her alone. Her stomach twisted in a knot of anticipation and sheer, paralyzing nerves.
He reached the double doors of his room and twisted the handle. He kicked the door open, the wood shuddering against the frame, and carried her inside.
