The playful light was absent from Lucas Walker's blue eyes; his palm supporting her arm was firm, and his gaze was unperturbed and profound.
He was wiping her down, but he himself hadn't dried off. Water trickled down his wet hair onto his striking face, giving his usually dominant demeanor a touch of melancholy.
Ivana Bennett inexplicably felt annoyed with the emotions conveyed through his tone, and avoided his gaze by looking downwards.
"You're hurting me!"
Lucas Walker quickly came to his senses and promptly let go of her arm, gently rubbing it. He then picked her up and walked out of the bathroom.
He placed her on a small couch, dried her hair, returned her to her bed, and noticing the slight frown on her face as she got in, raised an eyebrow.
"Wait for a moment!"
Without drying himself, Lucas Walker walked into the cloakroom, threw a robe over himself and quickly left.
