"Well, try to think a little closer to the bookshelves next time," she muttered, her cheeks flushing slightly, though clearly more out of embarrassment for the mess than attraction to him. She struggled to her feet, balancing the massive tower of literature in her arms.
The Prime Minister stood up smoothly, towering over her. He reached out, his instinct to dominate taking over, and gently plucked the top three heavy books from her stack to lighten her load.
"Hey!" she protested.
"I am simply taking responsibility for my blindness," he murmured smoothly, looking down at her with a completely new, dangerously intense focus. "Where are you taking these?"
The woman frowned, narrowing her eyes at him suspiciously, entirely immune to the celestial smile that had fooled the rest of the empire. "To the front counter. And then I am going home."
"Then allow me to escort you to the counter," the Prime Minister insisted gently, refusing to hand the books back.
