Chapter 11

Emmeline’s POV

I quickly averted my gaze and unconsciously stopped on his red lips.

Oh, to be tasted by those lips, so full and knowing.

His expensive cologne and untamed masculinity wafted from the car, making me lightheaded.

He was sculpted perfection – a chiseled jaw and eyes that held a universe of desire, all wrapped in a tall, powerful frame that promised exquisite dominance.

And then, my gaze lowered to the blatant ridge strained against his impeccably tailored trousers.

My breath hitched. I imagined its sheer size and the heat it must radiate when fully awakened.

A forbidden thrill shot through me, leaving me weak-kneed.

He was pure danger, this man.

“Run, Emmeline,” my inner voice shrieked, but my body thrummed with a need that defied all reason.

“Where are you going with that injured foot, lady?” My blackthorns gruff tone jolted me back to reality.

I swallowed. Hard. Beating myself for harbouring such