For The Love Of God

He dropped her.

“What the…? Gee…Thanks,” Lyra groaned, propping herself up with a wince. Her damp hair stuck to her face, and her dignity scattered across the floor.

“Sorry! I—uh—here!” he stammered, grabbing the towel from the ottoman. He flung it toward her and immediately spun around, his back to her, his ears turning an impressive shade of crimson.

“For the love of God!” he exclaimed. “What in the world are you doing walking around without clothes on?!”

“Excuse me?” she snapped, quickly getting to her feet, wrapping the towel around her body. “What the hell are you doing in my room?”

“Your room?” he repeated, incredulous. “This is my bedroom.”

She scoffed, clutching the towel tighter. “That you gave me to use! What, because it’s your bedroom, I don’t get any privacy? You could have knocked! You could have announced your presence! You could have—oh, I don’t know—not barged in!”

“Are you decent?” he asked finally, each word carefully selected.

“Oh, what’s the point? You already got a good look, you perv,” Lyra huffed, throwing one arm up dramatically while still clutching the towel. Her cheeks were flushed with a mix of embarrassment, annoyance, and the faint, inexplicable thrill that came from being caught naked by someone who looked like a Calvin Klein ad. The towel slipped slightly on one side, and she yanked it up with a scowl. “You practically copped a feel and dropped me. Real smooth.”

“I didn’t get a good anything!” Elias barked, sounding genuinely offended. His hands shot up in the air defensively. “And I wasn’t feeling anything. I was saving your life!”

“That’s exactly what a pervert would say!” Lyra spat, her eyes blazing as she pointed a finger at him. Her hair was dripping wet, and the loose strands framed her face.

Elias groaned and rubbed his temples. “I have a good mind to turn around, yank the towel off you and then get a proper look,” he muttered. “I will not be accused of something I didn’t do.”

Lyra’s jaw dropped. “One look wasn’t enough? You need more? Sheesh!” Her voice rose with mock outrage, but the tips of her ears were red, and she took a quick step back, just in case.

Elias turned around on the spot, his eyes sharp with challenge. His stare locked onto hers. His chest, still bare, rose and fell in slow, steady breaths. The muscles along his arms flexed slightly, as if to punctuate the intensity of the moment. He looked equal parts furious, flustered, and... infuriatingly attractive.

And that’s when Lyra finally really looked at him.

Her gaze started at his sharp jawline, moved to his chest—moderately sculpted, as if the universe had decided to sketch a Greek god but stop halfway so he wouldn’t be too intimidating. Her eyes trailed down the gentle dip of his abs to the faint line that disappeared beneath the waist of his trousers.

And, involuntarily—completely involuntarily—her tongue darted out and grazed her lower lip.

Elias caught it. Of course he did.

“You were just accusing me of something, Miss Lyra,” he said slowly, the corner of his mouth twitching as though he were holding back a smirk. “Regale me—what is it you’re doing now?”

“Don’t turn the tables here,” she snapped, crossing one arm under the other as best she could. “You looked first. This is just payback. Equal nudity opportunity. Besides…”—she gave a small, dismissive shrug—“there isn’t much to look at.”

Elias blinked, taken aback. “I did remember saying, ‘I didn’t look’…But since we’re doing paybacks…”

He started walking toward her, each step practically a warning bell. When he reached striking distance, he raised an eyebrow and reached a hand out, making a show of his fingers twitching toward her towel, just inches from touching it.

“I swear, if you so much as graze this towel—” she began, backing up so fast she nearly tripped over the rug.

The bedroom door burst open.

Beth stood at the threshold, holding a neatly folded dress in her hands. Her eyes landed on Elias first—shirtless and standing entirely too close to a barely-toweled Lyra—and she froze mid-step.

“Your highness!” Beth yelped, bowing so fast her hair flopped over her face. She looked like she wanted the floor to open up and swallow her whole.

Elias stepped back, clearing his throat. “Beth,” he said, nodding stiffly. Then he turned to Lyra, his face composed but his eyes lingering just a second longer than they should have. “Get dressed and meet me for breakfast.”

With that, he scooped up his shirt, tugged it over his head with an annoyed flick, and walked out.

The door clicked shut behind him.

And on the other side of it, Elias stopped. Pressed his forehead to the wood. Exhaled slowly.

He hadn’t meant to look.

But dear God—he had seen.

And it was going to take a cold bath and a long prayer to get that image out of his head.

*****

Thaddeus was just placing a steaming plate of eggs benedict in front of Elias when the doors to the breakfast room creaked open. Elias didn’t look up at first but his spoon froze midair as he caught sight of her.

Lyra walked in with a slow, uncertain grace, looking regal. Her hair had been tamed into a sleek ponytail, and two delicate pearl earrings dangled like punctuation marks against her neck. A matching necklace hugged her collarbone. But the real crime was the dress. That dress was a war crime of beauty. Flowing, cinched at the waist, just enough cleavage to confuse a priest.

 “Your highness… I believe what you’re doing at the moment is drooling,” Thaddeus murmured dryly as he poured a glass of pomegranate juice.

“Shut up,” Elias said, not even blinking.

Thaddeus, wearing the smug face of a man who knew he was right, moved behind Lyra’s designated chair and bowed slightly. “Good morning, my lady,” he greeted.

Lyra gave a polite, charming smile that looked far too natural on her face. “Good morning,” she replied, and there was a noticeable softening in her voice.