Bewitching Rhaego (Clecanian, #8)

by Victoria Aveline

Is she afraid…of me? Uncertainty cut through his single-minded fever, chased by a spike of sadness. But I would cherish you, little doe.

But if gentling his voice made her less scared of him, he’d live the rest of his life whispering.

Rhaego pulled out his seat and settled across from her, but when he noticed the way his breadth blocked the light from kissing her skin, he shuffled his chair to the side.

“It would benefit me greatly if you abstained from being so fucking beautiful.”