Page 154 of Wisteria and Cloves
When he finally pulled away, we were both breathing harder. His eyes had darkened to near black, pupils dilated with desire as he looked down at me.
"Go to sleep, Lilianna," he murmured, his voice rough. "I'll see you in the morning."
With that, he stepped back, putting careful distance between us. The sudden absence of his warmth made me shiver, my body still humming from the intensity of his kiss.
"That's not fair," I whispered, though there was no real protest in my voice—only wonder at this new side of him.
A ghost of a smile played at his lips "Nothing about this is fair," he said quietly, his eyes still dark with want. "But some things are worth doing right."
He reached past me to open my bedroom door, the movement bringing him close enough that I could feel the warmth radiating from his body. For a moment, I thought he might kiss me again, but instead he stepped back with visible effort.
"Four-thirty," he reminded me, his voice carefully controlled once more. "I'll bring coffee."
I nodded, not trusting my voice as I slipped into my room. The door closed softly behind me, and I leaned against it, my heart still racing from the intensity of that kiss. My lips felt swollen, my body humming with an awareness I'd never experienced before.
Sleep, I told myself firmly. I needed to sleep.
But as I changed into my nightgown and slipped between the sheets, my mind kept flashing back to the hunger in his eyes. Sleep was definitely going to be hard to come by tonight.
Chapter Fifty-Four
Lilianna
The morning came too quickly and before I knew it I was dressed and sitting with a cup of hot coffee in the car as Nicolaus drove through the quiet streets. I glanced at Nicolaus in the driver's seat, noting how the dashboard lights cast sharp shadows across his profile. He'd been quiet since we'd left the house, but it wasn't an uncomfortable silence. More like the focused calm of someone mentally preparing for something important.
“You're very quiet," I observed, glancing at his profile in the dashboard light. His hands were steady on the steering wheel, jaw relaxed but focused as he navigated the winding mountain roads.
"I'm thinking," he replied, his voice soft in the enclosed space of the car. "About today. About... us."
Something in his tone made my pulse quicken. "Good thoughts, I hope?"
"Complicated ones," he admitted, his voice so low I almost missed it. "But yes, good thoughts."
I studied him in the faint blue light from the dashboard, accentuating the sharp planes of his face. Unlike the others, Nicolaus rarely revealed his emotions openly. He kept them carefully contained, like precious things under glass. This small admission felt significant.
"Tell me," I prompted gently, turning in my seat to face him more fully.
Nicolaus was quiet for a long moment, his eyes fixed on the road ahead as it wound through the dense forest. When he finally spoke, his voice carried a weight I wasn't expecting.
"I've been watching you with the others," he said carefully. "The way you've opened up, the way you've found different pieces of yourself with each of them." His fingers flexed slightly on the steering wheel. "With Miles, you found a gentleness, a connection to nature. With Christopher, creativity and passion. With Julian, strength and protection." He paused, the silence heavy with unspoken thoughts. "I've been wondering what you might find with me."
The vulnerability in his admission caught me off guard. Nicolaus—always composed, always in control—was sharing doubts I hadn't realized he carried.
"I think that's for us to discover together," I said softly, reaching across the console to rest my hand on his arm. "But if I had to guess... I'd say balance. Clarity."
His eyes flickered to mine briefly before returning to the road, but that momentary connection spoke volumes. "Those are rare gifts," he murmured.
"So are you," I replied without hesitation. A ghost of a smile touched his lips as he took a turn onto a narrower road that wound deeper into the forest.
"We're almost there," he said, his voice carrying a note of anticipation that made my heart flutter. The trees grew thicker around us, their branches creating a canopy that filtered the early morning light into dappled patterns across the windshield.
I could smell it before I saw it—the crisp, clean scent of water carried on the morning breeze. When we finally rounded the last bend, I gasped softly at the sight before us.
The cove was nestled between towering pines and granite cliffs, water so still it looked like polished glass, reflecting the pale sky and the first hints of sunrise painting the eastern horizon in shades of golds and pinks. A small wooden dock extended into the water, weathered but sturdy, and I could see a narrow path leading down from where Nicolaus parked the car.
"It's beautiful," I breathed, stepping out of the car and inhaling deeply. The air was crisp and clean, carrying the scent of pine and fresh water. Everything was perfectly still except for the gentle lapping of water against the dock.
"It gets better," Nicolaus said quietly, retrieving a large bag from the trunk. "The sunrise will hit the water in about twenty minutes. That's when it becomes truly magical."
