Damian held the lounge door open, let Rowan stepped inside carefully, making sure Lyra's head didn't bump against the frame.
He carried her straight to the Casa Padrino baroque chaise longue and gently lowered her onto the cushions.
He grabbed a bottle of water from the nearby bar counter, then returned to her side.
"Drink a little."
Lyra reached, realizing he had already loosened the cap for her.
"Thank you," she murmured, taking small sips.
He knelt in front of her, gently slipping off her shoes, lifted her legs onto the chaise, arranging them so she could rest comfortably.
Rowan pulled a soft blanket from the armrest and draped it over her.
Lyra's eyes never stopped following him.
He usually carried himself with strength, reserve, and pride. Being cared for this gently by a man like him caught her completely off guard.
Rowan sat down in the small space beside her, his body angled toward her.
