Peerless Perverted Actor Has a Celebrity Harem?!

Park crossed the space in two strides, got an arm around her waist, and dropped his weight beneath hers before she reached the floor.

Her body turned in his arms with the momentum, her back arching over one of his hands while the other took her shoulder, and the two of them came to a halt in that ridiculous position with the whole lounge holding its breath around them.

Her face was inches from his.

Neither of them said anything for a beat.

Then Park smiled: "Hello."

She blinked at him: "Hello."

He brought her upright, but the moment she tried to put weight on the foot her expression broke and she grabbed his shoulder.

"Come on and sit." Park said.

She gestured at the shoe instead. "Can you I think I damaged my achilles—"

"Of course."

He crouched in front of her and eased the heel off the injured foot, taking the weight of it in one hand while she steadied herself against his shoulder, her fingers tightening every time the movement pulled at the joint. Park turned the ankle carefully, checking where the swelling was starting to gather along the outside, testing only as far as her face allowed and stopping the instant she winced.

"That’s not your Achilles," he said. "You’ve sprained the ankle."

"Badly?"

"Badly enough that these heels have been dismissed without pay."

She laughed despite the pain, which he took as a good sign for the ankle and an even better one for the afternoon.

Park stood and handed the shoe back to her. "How about you ice it and stay off it for a while. And find some flats."

She looked around the lounge, then back up at him with a small sly smile. "No need. I live in the building. I’ll take the lift home."

Park considered that. "A series of excellent decisions."

Her brows lifted. "What does that mean?"

"If you were going to injure yourself, doing it inside your own building is elite efficiency. One lift ride and the body is already home. No transport costs, or paperwork. Very sustainable."

For one second she only stared at him. Then she covered her mouth, and the laugh got out anyway, warm and surprised and considerably louder than she had intended.

"You’re right," she admitted. "The only bad decision was being saved by you."

Park looked wounded: "How is that bad?"

She gestured subtly around them, and he followed the motion.

Almost every person in the lounge was looking their way. Several had phones raised. Others were whispering behind hands with no real commitment to concealment. Between the catch, the arch, Park kneeling at her feet, and the fact that neither of them was remotely easy to overlook, the restaurant had collectively decided that lunch came with a live romance today.

"Being rescued by a handsome knight in a shiny armor," she said, "brought considerably more attention than falling would have. If you’d let me hit the floor, people would have looked away inside ten seconds."

Park glanced around the room, then back at her. "Look who’s talking."

She tilted her head.

"The only reason any of them are staring," he said, "is that every one in this room is currently wishing they’d been the one standing where I was standing. And I’d like to be clear that I understand exactly how lucky I got, because otherwise I would have spent this afternoon on a couch looking at my phone instead of talking to you."

Her smile deepened. "I understand the men part but the women too?"

"Women and men alike all wish they were me. You’re that beautiful."

Which was, if anything, an understatement. She sat only a few ranks below Evangeline, and Park had already learned that women who looked like this rarely arrived anywhere without trouble following along politely behind them.

She covered her mouth again as she laughed. "Careful. I might start thinking you arranged the accident so you’d have an excuse to hit on me."

"My immense luck arranged it so I could save you," Park said, and meant every syllable of it.

Not that she’d know what he meant.

Then he took her hand, lifted it slowly enough that she could have withdrawn it at any point and did not, and he pressed a light kiss to her knuckles—unhurried, easy, and entirely without irony, the sort of gesture that only worked at all if the man performing it had absolutely no doubt he was allowed to.

"Unfortunately," he said, "I’m not sorry for making you my damsel."

Her eyes widened then she giggled.

She had no way of knowing how honest he had been. Lucky had brought things to him before. Had it brought her too, arranged an ankle and a badly placed heel and a lounge full of witnesses, or had Park simply begun blaming the System every time an attractive woman fell into his arms?

Before he could reach any conclusion, a familiar voice cut quietly across the lounge.

"What do you think you’re doing, Kalypso?"

Emmeline stood a few steps away with her voice had been pitched low enough that only the people immediately around them could hear it.

The anger in it had not been pitched low at all.

***

A/N:Jealous Emmie?

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