He strode toward her with measured steps.
"Hey! Lucas, don't forget our three rules!"
His footsteps faltered. He picked up the glass of milk beside her and downed it in one gulp.
"Hey! That was mine!"
Too late to stop him.
"What are you, a water buffalo? Who drinks a whole glass in one breath?"
The words slipped out before Sophia realized—why did she sound so riled up? And why was she actually bickering with him? Her cheeks felt warm. Too warm.
Then, without warning, Lucas scooped her up into his arms.
"What are you doing? Put me down! Or I'll scream for help!"
A slow, dangerous smile curved his lips. "Scream all you want. Even if you shout until your throat gives out, no one's coming to save you."
Her bulky layers of clothes made her movements clumsy.
"I'm begging you, stop this. I'm scared."
The words had barely left her mouth before—"thud"—he dropped her unceremoniously onto the floor.
"Lucas! You—"
