When she kissed him again, it felt as natural as breathing. A lightness in his chest took flight and soared throughout his limbs as he deepened the kiss. His lips pressed to hers as if memorizing the way this moment felt. The barely contained hunger within him welled up in a way that was harder to control with each passing moment.
He never wished to stop kissing her.
The soft sound of her moaned pleasure made him wish there was somewhere they could go to be alone together — somewhere without the constraints of a ballroom or people that might come looking for either one of them. Blood rushed south as her tongue danced against his. He made up his mind — she would be his. The unattainable rose would be his to capture and not because of any bet, not for a wager or claims of glory, but because he was absolutely certain that he was in love with her.
As they reluctantly pulled apart from their first kiss, the intensity of their feelings hung in the air like an electric charge. The world seemed to disappear around them, leaving only the two of them connected by an unspoken understanding.
But the spell was broken by the sudden sound of rustling nearby. Startled, Tristan turned his head to investigate, his protective instincts kicking in. He noticed a fleeting shadow darting away behind a cluster of bushes.
“Did you hear that?” Seraphina asked, her eyes wide with concern. Her hands tightened around his biceps as she leaned further into his chest, hoping that whatever was lurking about the hedges, he would protect her from.
It made him prouder than he cared to admit. Never mind the way that she felt pressed against his chest like that.
“Yes, I did,” Tristan replied, scanning the area around them. He found it unlikely that anyone else would have left Lady Violet’s party and risk her wrath by coming outside like this. “It is probably just an animal. Let us go back to the party.”
Though he tried to sound reassuring, a nagging suspicion lingered in the back of his mind. He could not shake the feeling that they were being watched.
Hand in hand, they made their way back to the ballroom, their hearts still racing from the stolen moment they had shared. He did not wish to let her go. He lingered, her hand in his until the very last possible second when he was forced to release her to head back into the estate lest someone see them.
There was nobody in the hall that he could see, but it was better to be safe than sorry until such a time as he could speak to her father. The distant sound, however, cast a faint shadow over their joy, and they found themselves stealing glances over their shoulders as they moved separately through the crowd.
As they re-entered the ballroom, their friends greeted them with knowing smiles, but Tristan and Seraphina managed to keep their newfound connection a secret, at least for the time being.
Throughout the rest of the evening, the strange sound continued to haunt him for reasons he could not explain, a constant reminder of the intensity of their emotions and the challenges that lay ahead. He attempted to convince himself that it was nothing more than disappointment that anything had dared to interrupt them in the first place, but he knew he was right to be cautious either way.
Despite the distraction, Tristan finally asked Seraphina to dance, their bodies moving in perfect harmony, and he found comfort in her presence. As the night wore on, the strange sound remained a mystery, leaving him on edge. But despite the lingering unease, the magnetic pull between them was too strong to resist.
Chapter 21
2
The following morning, Tristan woke with a sense of disorientation, his mind still swirling with thoughts of the stolen kiss from the night before. The taste of Seraphina’s lips lingered on his own, and he found himself navigating uncharted waters of genuine affection. What had started as a mere wager had blossomed into something far deeper, something he had not anticipated nor prepared for.
Then there was the stiff, uncomfortable morning issue made all the harder to handle now that he knew how sweet she tasted.
He had spent countless hours with women of all kinds, charming them with ease and enjoying their company, but none had left such a lasting impression on him as Seraphina. Her intelligence, her wit, and the way she carried herself with a mix of vulnerability and strength had captivated him in ways he could not fully comprehend.
Just the magic of her allure, he supposed. Tristan had been content living a carefree and unattached life, but everything had changed. He found himself longing for her company, craving her presence in a way he had never experienced before.
The notion of love had always seemed like a fickle and frivolous sentiment to Tristan, but with Seraphina, it had become something real and tangible. He could not deny the pull she had over him, the way she seemed to occupy every corner of his mind.
As he prepared to call on her that morning, a mix of excitement and nervousness coursed through him. He wondered how she felt about him and if the stolen kiss had affected her as deeply as it had affected him. Tristan had always been confident in his ability to charm and win the affections of women, but with Seraphina, it was different. He could not simply rely on his usual tactics. He wanted her to see the real him, the man behind the facade of the notorious Lord Ashford.
As he made his way to her house, his mind continued to race with thoughts of their shared moments. He could not shake the feeling that he was about to embark on a journey that would change his life forever. He was so excited that it nearly pushed all worries of that mysterious sound in the garden out of his mind.
Tristan arrived at Seraphina’s house, his heart pounding with nervous anticipation. He was greeted by a servant and shown into the drawing room, where he found Seraphina and her mother, Lillian, engaged in conversation. The flowers he had ordered for delivery the night before were already decorating the room.
He knew it was a regular courting gift, but it did not feel as if it were nearly sufficient enough to reflect the depth of his feelings for her.
While Seraphina straightened in her seat and smiled at the sight of him, her mother seemed wholly the opposite. Lady Emberdale’s guarded gaze met his, and he sensed her disapproval of his pursuit of her daughter. A pang of guilt washed over him as he acknowledged that his initial intentions had been less than honourable when he accepted Michael’s bet.
However, getting to know Seraphina had changed everything for him. She was far more than the “Unattainable Rose” label suggested. He found himself genuinely drawn to her, and the thought of hurting her or betraying her trust weighed heavily on his conscience. He hoped that he would be able to convince her mother of that properly in time.
He bowed deeply in a respectful greeting, but her mother’s expression did not warm in the slightest.
“Lord Ashford,” Lady Emberdale said, her tone polite but guarded. “To what do we owe the pleasure of your visit today?”
Tristan cleared his throat, trying to find the right words. Usually, abundant flattery came easily to him — he should not have had this much difficulty getting words out. Then again, he had never had such pressure to have someone approve of him before. Before this, he could effortlessly throw out meaningless and shallow words of praise because however they were interpreted held no consequence.
