“I’m so sorry. You must be tired. Let me show you to your room.” Josiah’s hazel-green eyes displayed a hint of understanding.
Mila smiled with a nod, albeit a little forced.
Josiah grinned warmly. He took her hand and led her to the house. He dragged her little case along behind him with his other hand.
Josiah pushed open the door and led Mila to the west wing. He didn’t give her time to see the house other than a few brief introductions when they passed by particular rooms.
“I’ll give you a tour after you’ve rested,” he said once they reached the end of the hall. “From now on, this will be your room.”
“Thank you, Josiah.” Mila squeezed his hand.
She looked down at his hand, which was big and warm and covered hers completely. Instantly, her heart dropped and her expression darkened.
Mila’s nose soured as she thought about the way Sloane and Rowan had held hands the same way. Rowan, the very same man who was supposed to be her destined mate, not Sloane’s.
