Alena's eyes widened. What did he just say? A-aroused?! Her?!

Her mind reeled as unwanted heat surged to her cheeks. And when she saw an almost imperceptible smile gracing his lips, her lips, which were always so ready with a response or a gentle, diplomatic smile, were now pursed in a tight line.

“You look really adorable when you're flustered,” Kaztiel commented.

“Flustered? Who?” Alena retorted, attempting to regain her composure.

“You’re not very honest, are you?”

She scoffed. “You’re one to talk about honesty, Duke. How about you start by answering my questions?”

“If I do,” his voice seemed to deepen, darken. “Are you going to be honest with me too and admit that you’re hopelessly falling in love with your handsome husband at the very first sight?”

Alena’s mouth gaped open due to sheer disbelief. What in the afterlife was wrong with this man? What universe was he living in? She’d never ever imagined that the fearsome Duke Donovian could actually say something like this!

“Falling in-love? You overestimate yourself, duke,” Alena laughed inaudibly in disbelief. “I wouldn’t even deny if you said I’m in-lust with you, but in-love? You’re being delusional, Duke Donovian.”

Kaztiel's eyes sparkled with an enigmatic glint. "So, you are indeed lusting after me," he nodded slowly, as if confirming an inner thought that mildly pleased him. "That's more than enough for the moment. At least, it confirms we share a mutual... interest. We're moving forward.”

Alena was once again utterly dumbfounded.

"You... perv... wait, aren't you supposed to be into men?"

And just like that, she was trapped in the depths of those soul-stealing orbs once again.

“Give me your consent, and I’ll dispel your doubts,” he murmured. "I'll show you just how mistaken you are, right here, right now."

Alena became acutely aware of the rhythmic pounding of her heartbeat and the warmth flowing from her cheeks.

He leaned in, and the world seemed to disappear around them. The space between them became charged, electric, as if they stood on the precipice of a storm, waiting for the first bolt to shatter the tension.

And then, his face inched even closer, effectively catching her in the vortex of his pull. But just when their lips were a hairbreadth apart, he paused.

"Though I love the way your body screams just how much you are yearning for my… demonstration, I still require your spoken consent, Duchess," Kaztiel's voice, low and husky, whispered, his breath feathering against her in a maddeningly seductive caress. "Just speak the words, and I shall enlighten you."