GRAYSON HELD HER STEADY when her knees felt weak, his large hand splayed across the small of her back.
"Lucson and Mason are not here," he said, his voice dropping into that low, reassurring register.
Mailah looked up. "They aren't?"
"They went to the main Ashford estate last night for a meeting with the Fourth Circle representative," Grayson explained. "They won't be back until late this evening. The only people in this wing are the housekeepers and my personal guard. And my guard knows better than to look at you."
He reached out and tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. His fingers were calloused and blunt, but the gesture was surprisingly tender.
"Put the dress on," he commanded. "I will walk you to your quarters myself. If anyone looks at you with anything less than absolute respect, I will deal with it."
Mailah sighed, knowing there was no winning an argument with him when he was in "commander mode."
