Heiko’s senses flared, primal and sharp.
And then he saw her—Isabelle.
She stood by River’s wardrobe, wearing one of her sister’s dresses. She gasped theatrically when their eyes met, one hand fluttering to her chest.
“Oh—Your Highness,” she said, too sweet, too slow, “I didn’t know you were here... I was just... ....”
But Heiko wasn’t fooled. Not by the wide eyes, not by the soft voice, not by the way her gaze dropped blatantly to his chest, down to the towel barely clinging to his hips, her tongue flicking over her lower lip.
He felt his beast snarl, so close to the surface that it took every shred of his will not to let it rise.
His voice was a whip, cold and deadly. “Cut the chase, Isabelle,” he growled, taking a step forward, “I asked what you’re doing with River’s dress. And i
