Monica was taken aback. Only moments ago, she had been busy smoothing the hearth with wet clay, trying to reshape its edges after several people had stumbled against it while passing through that section of the house.
She had been so absorbed in her work that she hadn't even noticed Luke's approach until he called her name.
Yet now, instead of finishing her work, she found herself being led away from the kitchen and toward her mate's room, her hand firmly clasped in his.
"Luke, my hand is dirty," she tried to warn him, glancing at the clay smeared across her fingers.
"Doesn't matter. I want you. Now." Luke flashed her a smile before pushing open the door and leading her inside.
He closed the door behind them and finally turned to face her. For a few moments, he simply stood there, gazing at her without saying a word.
