Ruin (Rhodes #1) by Rina Kent

                             He will kill you, Mae. That’s why.

                             “There, you saw King.” Aaron’s nonchalant voice betrays nothing of his urgency earlier. “Let’s take him back.”

                             “You’re not dodging the problem.” The stranger narrows his eyes, his enunciation of words is even more posh than Aaron. “Do you have any idea of the trouble you caused this afternoon?”

                             “Let’s talk outside.” Aaron’s words are clipped.

                             Holy... this man must be something if he can talk to Aaron that way and get away with it. Perhaps his older brother? If they’re both nobles, then this stranger must be the head of the household.

                             If Aron is a lord or an earl, then this could be...

                             Holy. Hell.

                             A duke? I’ve never followed aristocracy closely, but a duke is big. Like huge. Like right after the royal family huge.

                             Though he could be only a lord.

                             “Wait...” The stranger sniffs the air like some sort of a hunting dog. “The room smells strange. Since when do you use citrus perfume?”

                             I swallow, heat rising to my cheeks. I hide behind the door and cover my mouth with both hands. Please no.

                             “None of your business.” Aaron shoves his hands in his pocket. “Out.”

                             A long tortured sigh leaves my system when the room quiets. Did they leave? I peek through the little opening of the door when a white-clothed broad chest blocks my vision. I look up to be captured by Aaron’s softening black wells. The sight is so rare that I stare at them in complete awe.

                             He reaches for my head. His warm palm caresses the top of my hair, causing an ache similar to excitement to form at the bottom of my stomach.

                             I open my mouth to blurt something, but his index finger presses on my lips. Words die at my throat. The ache in my stomach intensifies to match the thundering of my heart.

                             He smiles, a genuine heart-stopping smile that stretches to his eyes. It erupts the intense sensation in my stomach into wild frenzied butterflies.

                             “You did well, kitten,” he says in a low voice before leaving.

                             When the lock clicks in place, my wobbly knees give up the burden of holding me, and I fall to the tiled floor.

                             What the hell just happened?



                             . . . . .



                             In the following days, there has been no trace of Aaron. Which adds a further confusion to what on earth happened that afternoon.

                             For five days, only Kane has been showing up with my meals. He doesn’t talk too much, but he listens to me blabbering without any sign of discomfort.

                             So different from His Lordship.

                             Refusing to succumb to any thoughts about Aaron, I spend my time sketching. I found a little notebook in the drawer and a collection of charcoal crayons. Something tells me it’s not a coincidence.