It was a sight that he wanted to save in his memory forever.
“Come.”
And she did. Her walls tightened around his fingers, and his name ripped through her lips.
“S-Simon,”she cried out.
God.It was the best sound he had ever heard.
And when it was over, he cupped her chin, tilting her gaze to his.
“That,” he murmured, “was your lesson.”
She covered herself with her hands, suddenly self-conscious. “You are a good teacher.”
“Now you know how to do this yourself.” His voice was thick with something unreadable.
Rachel barely had the presence of mind to nod.
“I’ll give you the privacy to dress yourself,” he said finally and let her go. He did not wait for an answer as he quietly slipped out of the room.
He had just broken his own rule again. Somehow, he was beginning to understand that it might not be the last time.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Rachel had noticed it before, but now she could no longer ignore it.
Simon was absent frequently. Every evening. He would be missing at mealtimes and would return only late at night. He never spoke of where he went, never offered so much as a passing comment about his disappearance.
And she, for all her curiosity, had never dared to ask.
She told herself it was because she was honoring his rule—never ask where I am going—but deep down, she knew there was another reason entirely.
She was afraid of his answer being one that she would not like.
This morning, as she stepped onto the terrace, she saw him once more, preparing to leave.
Simon stood beside his mare, adjusting the gloves on his hands with practiced ease. His face was impassive, unreadable, as it always was when he was preparing to depart.
I wonder what he’s thinking.
And more importantly,where he’s going.
Rachel knew that not knowing would drive her wild in his absence for the remainder of the day, so in the interest of her own well-being, she swallowed her hesitation and decided to make her way toward him.
Simon must have sensed her presence because he did not startle when she stopped just a few steps away.
Instead, he continued his preparations, fastening the last buckle on his glove before turning toward her.
“You require something of me?” His voice held no trace of emotion. Merely a practical inquiry.
She met his gaze, heart pounding as she mustered the courage.
“You are leaving,” she said, her voice even though she hated how much it sounded like an observation rather than a question.
Like it was the norm—him leaving and her just idly watching him from the sidelines.
Simon’s hands stilled for the briefest second before he finished adjusting the leather. He turned his head, meeting her gaze.
