Elara's heart raced as she stared at Lucien. He was burning up. His skin felt like fire under her fingers, and he still wasn't responding.
What do I do? What do I do? Her mind spun in circles. He's the strong one. He always knows what to do. Now he's just lying here like this and I'm half-naked in a cave with assassins probably still looking for us. Great. Perfect. I'm going to die because I don't know how to help a fever.
She slapped both cheeks with her hands, the sound echoing softly in the cave. "Pull yourself together, Elara," she whispered firmly. "You can do this."
She looked down at her damp dress lying near the fire. Without thinking twice, she tore a long strip from the bottom of it. Then she hurried out of the cave, the cool night air hitting her bare skin and making her shiver. She dipped the cloth in the cold river water, wrung it out, and rushed back inside.
Lucien still hadn't moved.
She knelt beside him and pressed the cool cloth to his forehead. "Lucien?" she called softly. No answer. She gently wiped his face, then moved the cloth down to his neck and chest. His skin was so hot it made the cloth warm up almost immediately.
The cold breeze from the cave entrance swept over her again. She shuddered hard. I can't let myself get sick too. He already thinks I'm useless.
She quickly placed the cloth back on his forehead, then grabbed her now-dry clothes and dressed as fast as she could. Once she was covered, she went back to him.
The cloth on his head was already hot again. She sighed and hurried outside once more to soak it in the river. When she returned, she knelt closer and started wiping his forehead and face again, then moved lower to his chest and abs.
Up close like this, without his piercing gray eyes staring back at her, Lucien looked… inhumanly beautiful. The firelight danced over his sharp jaw, the straight line of his nose, the full curve of his lips. His dark hair was still damp and messy from the river. She could see why so many women lost their minds over him as much as she hated to admit it. He was dangerously attractive even when unconscious.
Stop it, she scolded herself. This is not the time to think about how hot he is. He's sick. Focus.
Her hands moved carefully with the cloth, tracing over the hard ridges of his abs and the broad planes of his chest. She couldn't help the thought that slipped in — how many girls and women would kill to be in her place right now, touching him like this.
Another cold breeze swept through the cave. Elara shivered again, her teeth almost chattering.
She glanced at the cave entrance, worried. At this rate I'm definitely going to catch a cold too. She looked back at Lucien. The cloth was hot again. She started to stand up to go soak it once more.
A strong hand suddenly grabbed her wrist.
Elara froze.
Lucien's eyes opened slowly. Those piercing gray eyes met hers, still sharp even through the fever.
"Don't go," he said, voice low and cold.
Elara's heart was still pounding when Lucien's fingers tightened around her wrist.
His eyes opened slowly, heavy-lidded and intense, like he had just run a thousand miles and was still breathing through it. The firelight made the gray look darker, almost smoky. His voice came out low, rough, and unintentionally sexy — deep and ragged, the kind of sound that slid under your skin.
"If you keep going out there," he said slowly, "you will catch a cold. And then both of us will freeze to death." He paused, eyes half-closed, watching her. "The temperature in this cave is going to keep dropping all night."
Elara panicked. Her mind spun. What do I do? He's burning up. I'm half-naked. We're trapped. Assassins are out there. I can't—
Lucien's voice cut through her thoughts, calm but devastatingly hot. "The only way we stay alive tonight… is to share our body heat."
Elara's mouth fell open. Her face went bright red. "Share… body heat?" She was so flustered she could barely speak. For one wild second she thought he meant sex. Her brain short-circuited. "You mean… we have to…?"
He looked at her with that same half-lidded, intense stare. "Yes. Skin to skin. Or we both die. Your choice, wife."
Elara's embarrassment hit like a wave. She was already in nothing but her bra and panties. He was shirtless, fever-hot, and dangerously beautiful. "You can't be serious," she whispered, voice shaky.
This was not how she pictured her first time.
Lucien's lips curved the tiniest bit — not a smile, but something darker. "We could both die instead. That is another option, since you seem so against sharing body heat with me."
That sarcastic tone snapped something in her.
She had had enough.
Why did he always speak so casually? Like this was nothing to him. Maybe he had seen hundreds of women naked, had sex with them whenever he wanted, and sharing body heat was just another boring chore. But it meant more to her. It made her furious how easy it was for him… it made her want to prove something.
Before she could think, Elara took the initiative.
She leaned forward and kissed him.
It started desperate and clumsy, her lips crashing against his. If this is going to be my first time, it will be on my terms, she told herself.
Lucien froze for half a second, surprised. Then he kissed her back.
The kiss deepened fast. His mouth was hot, demanding, and skilled. One of his hands slid into her hair, gripping just tight enough to tilt her head the way he wanted. Elara moaned softly into his mouth. Her hands went to his damp hair, fingers threading through the dark strands as she pulled him closer.
She moved without thinking, spreading her legs and climbing on top of him, straddling his hips. The feel of his hard body between her thighs made her shiver.
Lucien groaned low in his throat — a deep, sexy sound that vibrated through her. He flipped them smoothly, laying her on her back on the cave floor with him hovering over her. His mouth left hers to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses down her neck. He sucked on the sensitive skin there, hard enough to leave a mark. Elara gasped, back arching.
His hands moved to her breasts, palming them through her bra before he pulled the fabric down. He lowered his head and took one tight nipple into his mouth, sucking and licking until she was whimpering. His other hand squeezed the other breast, thumb brushing the sensitive peak.
Elara was breathing hard, body on fire. Her hands roamed over his bare chest and abs, feeling every hard muscle.
When his mouth moved lower, kissing down her stomach, Elara's breath hitched. He hooked his fingers in her panties and started to pull them down. His face hovered between her thighs, gray eyes dark and intense as he looked up at her.
That was when he saw it — the sudden panic in her eyes.
Lucien stopped immediately.
He moved back up slowly, kissing her stomach, then her breasts again, then her neck, until his lips brushed her ear.
"Look who's being a bad girl," he whispered, voice deep, ragged, and teasingly hot. "Do you really want me that badly, my little wife? You're such a desperate little whore tonight."
He chuckled softly — a low, sexy sound that made her heart skip and her face burn even hotter.
Elara pushed at his chest, face bright red. "Stop saying things like that!"
Lucien didn't move. He stayed over her, hands braced on either side of her head, looking down with those intense gray eyes. Then he smirked again — genuine this time, low and warm.
He used one hand to gently turn her face back to his when she tried to look away. "Little wife," he said, voice still rough but calmer now, "I had no intention of fucking you tonight."
He watched the flash of hurt cross her face before she could hide it.
"Not because I like refusing a meal served on a plate," he continued, "but because I don't think you're ready for me just yet. In all honesty… I only wanted to share body heat. But it seems your mind is filthier than mine."
Elara's cheeks burned. She felt embarrassed, exposed, and strangely disappointed all at once.
Lucien stayed above her, body heat radiating into hers. He was still hard against her thigh, but he made no move to take things further. His eyes were half-lidded again, fever making them darker, but his control was iron.
He leaned down, pressing his forehead lightly against hers for a moment — almost gentle — before pulling back.
"Sleep," he ordered softly, voice still sexy and rough. "I'll keep you warm."
Elara didn't know what to say. Her body was still buzzing, her heart racing. She hated how much she wanted him. She hated how he could turn her into a mess with just a few words and touches, then stop like it was nothing.
But as he settled beside her and pulled her against his burning chest, wrapping his arms around her to share body heat, she felt safe for the first time since they jumped off that cliff.
The fire crackled softly.
Outside, the forest stayed dark and dangerous.
Inside the cave, the tension between them burned hotter than the fever.