ADRIEN'S POV
Of all the goddamn times.
I shut the bedroom door—harder than I meant to.
For a moment, I didn't move. Just stood there.
Just stood there. The tension coiled through my spine like a pulled wire. I could still feel her skin under my hands, still hear the sound of her voice—soft and breathless against my throat.
Then came the knock.
I ran a hand down my face once, forcing the weight off my shoulders.
I took the stairs two at a time, jaw clenched so tight it hurt. Thomas better have a damn good reason for interrupting. And Clara? If she so much as breathed the wrong way, I was going to lose the last shred of patience I had left.
Thomas stood at the base of the stairs, looking like he wanted to be anywhere else.
"She's in the drawing room," he said.
I nodded. "Has she said what she wants?"
He hesitated. "Just that it's urgent."
I nodded.
By the time I reached the drawing room, every trace of heat had drained from my features.
