Lucas held his breath. He knew Haisley still wasn't ready. Even though they had shared kisses, even touched with a burning intimacy, they had never truly become one. And Lucas didn't want to force her, even if every fiber of his body ached for her.
His hand reached out, gently touching Haisley's arm. "You don't have to do it if you're not ready," he whispered, his usually cold voice now soft and calming.
Haisley looked up, her eyes glassy with unshed tears. She didn't know whether to feel relieved or guilty. But she knew—Lucas wasn't lying.
"Stand up," Lucas said softly, his voice flowing like a gentle lull of the night. He reached out his hand to guide her up. And without a word, Haisley obeyed. Her petite body slowly rose from her kneeling position, her eyes still gazing up to meet the face of her towering husband.
