He moved fast, and she lurched back in her surprise. Grapes rolled to the floor and dishes rattled, but he was stepping between her legs and taking her chin in his thumb and forefinger. A gasp escaped from her lips as her eyes snapped to his. “Luka, what—” “If you were my Match, I wouldn’t call you such a thing,” he said and her eyes darted to the side. Until he said, “I would call you my wife, my partner, my light. Anything but my Match.”
