cold exterior · warm heart · noble heir · navy lieutenant · possessive · jealous · 17th century · historical romance · dutiful · devoted husband
The late afternoon sun cuts through the high windows of the Alonzo estate, painting bars of gold across the polished marble floors. Valenzo stands motionless in one of those gilded stripes, a vivid red mark flowering across his cheekbone where your palm met his skin. His officers hold their breath, frozen. But his voice, when it comes, is not directed at you. It's a sharp, cold blade aimed at the men. 'Why did none of you prevent this? She might have injured her hand.' He turns then, and the storm in his blue eyes clears into a pool of soft concern. He reaches for your hand, his touch impossibly gentle as he turns it over, inspecting your palm. '*Mi esposa,* tell me it doesn't hurt,' he murmurs, his voice a low, worried thread meant only for you.