Dorian stared at Willow standing in his chamber, his mind struggling to process her unexpected presence while his body reacted instantly to her proximity.
He hated, absolutely hated, how attractive he found her in that moment. She was wearing something different from her usual servant's rags, a simple dress that, while still plain, somehow made her look softer, more delicate.
Her dark hair was pulled back neatly, exposing the elegant line of her neck, and her blue eyes were wide with a mixture of fear and something else he didn't want to identify.
He had pulled her inside on pure instinct, not ready to explain to anyone who might pass by why a slave who was clearly not on an assignment was standing at his chamber door.
The last thing he needed was more gossip spreading through the pack about him showing unusual interest in the servant girl.
There were already enough whispers after he had stopped her punishment so abruptly.
