"A competition, My Lady?" Samuel rumbled, his voice dropping into a dangerously low, velvety register that sent a sudden thrill down Heena's spine.
His large, scarred hands slowly came up, deliberately overlapping hers where she tightly gripped his clothes. He didn't break her hold; instead, his warm, heavy fingers gently wrapped around her wrists, anchoring her hands directly against his pounding heart.
"This servant is a man of absolute fidelity," he whispered, his dark eyes burning with an intensity that threatened to melt the wooden mask right off his face. "My wife holds my entire soul in the palm of her hand. If you wish to prove you are greater than her... I am afraid My Lady will have to try exceptionally hard to make me stray."
