Cornelia's POV
David released my hand and moved toward the center table, retrieving the broken rose from where it had fallen. When he returned, that familiar gentle expression softened his features as he carefully tucked the flower into my hair. He stepped back, hands settling on his hips while he studied me with obvious satisfaction.
"Perfect. Now it's complete."
"Why are you so obsessed with roses?" I asked, my fingers automatically smoothing a loose strand behind my ear.
He captured my hand again, our fingers weaving together naturally as we headed toward the door.
"They make me think of someone special," he said after a pause, his voice carrying a weight that made my pulse quicken. "Someone beautiful, dangerous in ways she doesn't even realize, and completely unforgettable."
The car keys jangled as he pulled them from his pocket, the metallic sound sharp in the quiet air.
I turned to study his profile. "How exactly am I dangerous?"
