Chapter 88:
“Ouch,” she murmured, pulling her hand back.
Elias was there in an instant. He didn’t teleport, but he moved with a speed that defied his usual composed demeanor.
“Let me see,” he demanded.
Aurora looked at her hand. A tiny bead of blood welled up on her index finger. “It’s nothing, Elias. Just a scratch.”
“It is a breach of the epidermis,” Elias said, his voice tight. “Infection risk is non-zero. Tetanus. Staphylococcus.”
He reached out. He wasn’t wearing gloves.
Aurora hesitated, then offered her hand.
Elias’s fingers brushed against her wrist. His skin was cool, dry. Her skin was warm. The contact sent a jolt of static electricity through him that had nothing to do with physics.
He turned her hand over, inspecting the tiny scratch with the gravity of a heart surgeon. He placed two fingers on her pulse point—completely unnecessary for a scratch.
Thump. Thump. Thump. Her pulse was steady.
Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.
His smartwatch began to alarm. High Heart Rate Alert. 120 BPM.
The sound was loud in the quiet room.
Elias froze. He quickly covered the watch face with his other hand, his ears turning a bright, betraying red.
“Is… is that your heart?” Aurora asked, looking at him with amusement.
“It is… the room temperature,” Elias lied, his voice flat. “It is unseasonably warm in here. The sensors are malfunctioning.”
Beatrice coughed to hide a laugh. She exchanged a look with Leo. He’s a goner.
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Elias didn’t let go of her hand. He held it for three seconds longer than necessary. His thumb grazed her skin. He wasn’t thinking about germs. He wasn’t thinking about bacteria. He was thinking about how soft she was.
He abruptly dropped her hand. “It is clean. Apply antiseptic later.”
He turned on his heel and marched toward the kitchen. “I must… check the wine pairings.”
In the kitchen, Elias turned on the cold water tap. He ran his wrists under the icy stream. He looked at his reflection in the chrome faucet.
“Get a grip,” he hissed at himself.
But the tingling in his fingertips where he had touched her wouldn’t go away.
The dining room was lit by a chandelier that dripped crystals like frozen tears. The table was set with enough silverware to perform a complex surgery.
Servants placed large, steaming platters in the center of the table.
Spicy Crawfish and Crab Legs.
Elias stared at the food. It was red. It was oily. It was messy. It was a nightmare for a man who alphabetized his spice rack.
Leo grinned from across the table. “I ordered the special. Thought we needed some spice.”
Aurora looked at the crab legs. She loved seafood, but peeling it in a white-glove environment felt like a trap. She hesitated, reaching for her napkin.
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