“All right, Maither.” He nodded, watching her leave the parlor.
He raked his fingers through his hair nervously, scolding himself silently for lying to his mother. Because in a way, he had promised to do as she had told him. He had promised to welcomeher, to spend time withher. Only, he hadn’t clarified who “her” was.
Raphael retreated to his study, the flickering glow of candlelight casting a warm ambiance over the room. Pouring a generous measure of whisky into a crystal glass, he leaned against his mahogany desk and allowed his thoughts to wander.
Images of Keira filled his mind—the way she laughed, the sparkle in her eyes, and the genuine warmth of her presence.The notion of her being in his ancestral home titillated him, stirring an exhilarating mix of excitement and desire. He found himself eagerly anticipating the midnight rendezvous.
Time seemed to stretch slowly as the clock’s hands approached midnight. The minutes felt like hours, each one urging him closer to the moment he would see Keira again. He imagined their conversation, the stolen glances, and the electric charge that seemed to buzz whenever they were near.
He remembered her seated in his lap inside the carriage, how his entire body had yearned to kiss her. He could tell she had wanted him to. Yet, staring at her, so blushingly beautiful, trembling in his arms, had made him frozen in time.
How would she react if he had kissed her? Would she have kissed him back?
What would her lips taste like as she spilled her warm breath over his? He wanted to feel her fingers raking through his hair, to hear her moan softly while his hands traversed the unexplored lands of her body.
Thinking of her body, he suddenly remembered something. He called for a maid, who appeared several minutes later.
“Ye called, m’Laird?” she asked courteously, bowing her head before him.
“Aye.” He nodded. “I have a guest, and I want her wardrobe to be filled with the finest gowns we have to offer.”
“Aye, m’Laird,” the maid said without hesitation. “I shall see to it immediately.”
“Also…” He paused, wanting to clarify. “It needs to be a surprise. Dinnae do it with her in the chamber. Wait until ye can do it unnoticed.”
“I could do it while she is taking a bath,” the maid suggested. “She will be out of the chamber long enough for me to prepare everythin’.”
“That sounds good,” he agreed. “Do it like that.”
“Aye, m’Laird,” she said. “Is that all?”
He nodded, watching her leave and close the door behind her. He had to admit that this was a strange desire. He didn’t need to make a surprise for Keira. She was here for one reason—for the same reason he couldn’t get out of his mind as well. Then why did he want to do things for her?
Because I’m a good host.
That was all. Guests should feel welcome in his home. It was common courtesy.
When the clock chimed midnight, it pulled him out of his reverie. He set his glass aside, his decision made. It was time.
In the lavish chambers of Raphael’s castle, Keira stood before a looking glass, eyeing her reflection. Moonlight filtered through the window, casting a gentle glow that added an air of enchantment to the room. Her heart danced with anticipation, the prospect of their midnight meeting quickening her pulse.
Her fingers delicately caressed the silk and lace of an exquisite blush pink nightgown. It was as delicate as moonbeams, and she imagined it would embrace her in a soft, romantic allure, perfect for their clandestine rendezvous. She wanted to look ravishing for him.
She wanted to make him breathless at the very sight of her, and she would settle for no less. That was why she had thought about what to wear for a long time. That was why she had done her hair twice before she was really happy with the way it was.
The flickering candlelight cast dancing shadows on the walls, echoing the flickering uncertainty in her heart. How close they had been inside the carriage, their lips nearly touching, the promise of a shared secret in the air. Yet, fate had intervened, leaving them suspended in a breathless moment.
Her pulse quickened at the mere thought of their closeness. Raphael’s eyes, intense and enigmatic, had seemed to pierce her soul. She remembered the soft brush of his hand against hers,sending shivers down her spine. It was a dance of restraint, a ballet of unspoken desires.
Keira leaned against the window, the glass cold against her heated skin. The night outside was a canvas of stars, each one a glimmering hope. A sigh escaped her lips as she replayed their almost-kiss in her mind, wondering what could have been if time had stood still just a little longer.
Inexplicably, she wanted to know everything there was to know about this mysterious man. She wanted to be allowed to touch every inch of his body while their lips met in a passionate kiss. Only, she was certain that this alone wouldn’t be enough. It wouldn’t be nearly enough.
As the minutes ticked by, she knew their meeting drew near. The anticipation was a delicate flame, flickering with uncertainty, yet igniting her soul with its promise. In the stillness of her chamber, Keira braced herself for the enchanting midnight rendezvous that awaited, ready to seize the moment that had been deferred.
9
Every step through the dimly lit corridors felt charged with a youthful excitement that Raphael hadn’t experienced in years. The flickering candlelight seemed to dance along the walls, matching the whirl of emotions within him. It was as if he were transported back to the heady days of youth, brimming with the anticipation of an adventure.
