Her yelp was muffled, her back colliding with a solid chest, the scent of smoke and spice instantly surrounding her. The world tipped, spun—and then froze.
Her breath caught in her throat.
"Running off again, little maid?" came the low, edged voice near her ear, unmistakable.
Adrien.
His fingers pressed lightly into her side, not painfully, but like a warning—like a claim. The shadows masked most of his face, but his eyes glinted, sharp and wild in the dim light.
She twisted in his grasp, still slightly dazed. "What the hell are you doing—?"
"You look like you're about to fall into the nearest fountain," he murmured darkly, stepping in until her back hit the wall. "How many drinks did you have, Lise?"
Alicia blinked hard, trying to shake the fog from her head. "None of your business."
Adrien's head tilted slightly, a dangerous smirk curling his lips. "It becomes mine when you're stumbling around like prey. And when he was the one standing too close."
