Days later the estate had settled into a new rhythm. Lucas had moved his work to a bright corner office overlooking the gardens, a place designed for county paperwork rather than state councils. His laptop was open, e-mails and draft statements spilling across the screen. A stack of folders waited by his elbow, Trevor's crest stamped on each. The faint pulse of heat that hadn't yet broken lay like a low thrum under his skin, making the room feel warmer than it was.
He rubbed his temple, trying to focus on a reply to a minister's message, when a soft knock broke the quiet. Windstone stepped inside, silver-haired and precise as always. "Sir," he said quietly, "there is a visitor…"
He didn't get to finish. The door behind him banged open and Mia slipped past him like a gust of wind, eyes wide. "Lucas!" she exclaimed, skirts swishing around her legs as she crossed the room at a near run.
