Reid MacLeod stands on the front steps with the midday sun casting shadows across the gravel as Octavia Brennan's documents promise to save his dukedom. The moment her fingers brush his, he issues the quiet command to follow him inside, and her immediate yielding to his low voice cracks the control he has spent years building.
Inside the oak-paneled study, the heavy scent of ink and old ledgers fills the space between them at midday. His broad frame at her back as she signs turns the necessary alliance into something far more dangerous, each order she obeys exposing the fear of legacy he will not name and the pull he cannot ignore.
But as she yields to every demand he makes to secure his heir, the question remains whether either can pretend this is still only about the title.
