Page 45

T he evening pressed on, the engagement ball unfolding around them in light of the extraordinary that had occurred.

Laughter and music filled the air once more, though whispers still trailed behind Sera and Alex wherever they moved.

Mr. Brown, soaked through and visibly pale, had been quietly ushered out of the ballroom.

Stan, his expression set in practiced calm, followed close behind.

The weight of what would come from that confrontation lingered on, but Alex knew his brother would handle it.

For a while, they had done what was expected—danced, greeted guests, and engaged in the conversation required of them.

Sera’s smile never slipped, though she could feel exhaustion tugging at the edges of her composure.

Alex, she noticed, wore his princely role well, offering charming remarks to those who approached and standing steadfastly beside her.

There was strength in his quiet gestures—a hand pressed lightly against her lower back, his touch brushing hers when no one was looking.

But even his patience had limits.

After the final set ended, Alex leaned in close, his breath warm against her temple as he murmured, “Sera, come with me.”

She blinked up at him, startled by the quiet intensity in his tone. “Now?”

A faint grin tugged at the edges of his lips. “Now.”

Before she could protest—or agree—he took her hand in his, weaving them both through the crowd with practiced ease.

The grand entry hall loomed ahead as they left the full, glittering warmth of the ballroom behind.

She cast a quick glance over her shoulder, catching her mother’s gaze from across the room, but Alex didn’t slow his pace.

Once they had slipped beyond the main doors, the cool air of the corridor kissed her flushed skin. “Alex, we can’t just leave,” she whispered, glancing around to ensure no one had followed.

“Why not?” His voice carried that same lightness she had come to crave, the easy confidence that made her heart flip at the most inconvenient moments. “What are they going to do, make me marry you?”

Sera choked on a laugh, turning her face toward him as a smile broke free. “You’re insufferable.”

“And yet, here you are,” he replied, a spark of mischief bright in his gaze as he tugged her forward.

Their steps quickened as he led her down a shadowed side hall and toward the cool night beyond.

Sera felt a giggle rising in her chest, though it wouldn’t do to give themselves away with the sound.

Still, she could hardly help herself. The scandal, the rush of it, the sheer audacity of being pulled away from her own engagement ball—every part of it felt exhilarating, dangerous, and entirely right.

Alex paused before a side door, glancing down at her with a rare softness that caught her off guard. “Come on,” he said quietly, his eyes searching hers in the dim light. “We’ll only be gone for a little while.”

Her breath caught, and for one heartbeat, she stilled.

Then, without another word, she nodded, slipping her hand into his more securely.

Whatever awaited them, for now, she would go.

Wherever Alex was concerned, she always would.

The stairs creaked softly beneath her slippers, but Sera barely noticed.

Alex’s hand was firm around hers, pulling her forward, his steps quick and determined.

Her breath faltered, caught halfway between laughter and the swirling anticipation that coiled low in her belly.

The grand staircase curved upward, each step dimly lit by the glow of silver candelabras.

The music from the ball—fading now—played faintly below, an echo of a world she no longer cared to be part of.

Not when he was leading her somewhere else entirely. Somewhere that felt like just theirs.

“Where are we going?” she whispered, her voice barely more than a shaky breath. His urgency made her giddy, made her cling tighter to him as they rounded the second landing and hurried up toward the third.

“I don’t know,” Alex said, tossing a glance back at her with a smile that was all mischief, all heat. “But I can’t wait anymore.”

Something about the way he said those words sent a thrill through her, pulling at memories of long ago—the alley in Cornwall, when the night had hidden them, and the salt-kissed air had made her head spin.

But this… this was different. This was better.

Here, the settings were finer, softer, the smell of fresh wood polish and roses chasing the air.

It felt illicit but far more elegant. It felt like them, now.

Before she could form another word, Alex spun abruptly, tugging her into the shadows of the corridor.

Sera gasped as her back met the plush damask wallpaper, the impact cushioned but the jolt sending her pulse racing.

Her hands, which he had been holding, were lifted—high above her head, over her curls—by the strength of one of his capable hands.

His body pressed close, so close she could feel the hard planes of him against her softer curves. Her breath hitched.

Alex’s lips met hers with a force that started like desperation but gentled within heartbeats.

That gentleness unraveled her, pulling her apart even as it stitched her back together.

She melted beneath the press of his mouth, her sigh captured between them.

His other hand, the one not pinning her arms above her head, slid—slow, deliberate—from the edge of her jaw, down the graceful curve of her neck until it rested at her shoulder.

Then it lingered before continuing, tracing her through the fine fabric of her gown, until he barely brushed the swell of her chest.

“Are all these rooms occupied?” she whispered against his lips, speaking only because words were all she had left to steady herself.

“Does it matter?” Alex’s growled response shot straight through her, tightening the air in their shared small space.

His hand around her wrist loosened suddenly, but before she could mourn the loss of his restraint, his arm slid quickly around her waist. He pulled her so sharply against him that the breath left her body in a dazed little gasp.

Reflexively, her fingers reached out, skimming the damask walls as they stumbled farther down the hall.

Then Alex opened a door. Just like that—one twist of a handle, and the world around them disappeared.

Moonlight poured through the room’s tall windows, washing the space in soft, bluish light.

The heavy curtains had been drawn only halfway, and the gleam of the city reached faintly inward, reduced to a muted whisper in the quiet sanctuary of the chamber.

It was a simple room—clean, elegant, a single bed against the far wall dressed in crisply folded linens. Perfect. More than perfect.

“This is better than a cave, isn’t it?” Alex said, his voice low, teasing, as he glanced back at her.

Sera couldn’t respond. Not with words. Her gaze drank in the room’s surroundings, but all that mattered was him, the way he looked at her as though she was all he needed, all he’d been searching for.

And when he stepped inside, pulling her in alongside him, she realized she would follow him anywhere—no matter where the path twisted, no matter how dark it may seem.

If this is what privacy meant—being alone with him, unburdened by the world—then she wanted nothing else.

Alex pressed her back against the door and locked it with an audible click. The sound of it, sharp and final, made her shiver. His hands didn’t hesitate this time; they framed her waist firmly, holding her as though he might never let her go.

“Finally alone,” he murmured, his breath lighting against her ear, his lips grazing the sensitive skin just there.

Her heart stuttered, then sped, a glorious rhythm that echoed through her body. Alone had never felt so complete.

*

The lock clicked beneath his fingers, and Alex inhaled, sharp and deep, as though the sound had punctured something inside him.

He couldn’t have stopped himself if he tried.

The urgency burned too hot, too close. He turned back to Sera, Seraphina, Miss Lyndon—as long as it was her, he didn’t care what she was called.

She was his.

Her breath unsteady, the moonlight catching on strands of her hair and making her glow like a vision long dreamed of but never truly real.

But she was real. She was here, and he reached for her—not gently, no, not now.

His hand found her waist, warm silk under his fingers, and he pulled her to him as if the ocean itself might drag her away if he didn’t hold her tight enough.

Her body gave against his, pliant and perfect, and when she tipped her face up to him, lips parted, it undid the last fraying thread of his restraint.

Alex kissed her—or didn’t just kiss her.

He claimed her, his mouth crashing into hers with the force of everything he couldn’t say.

And yet even as his hands pressed against her back, sliding up, tracing the elegant curve of her spine, his touch softened.

She tasted of something sweet and heady, something that reminded him of late summer and stolen glances.

Something that made his chest ache with the sheer immensity of it all.

This was them, truly and completely. For the first time, Alex understood what it meant, truly meant, to be beyond the watchful eyes of the world.

To be free to love her, wholly and without hesitation, without the weight of expectation pressing on his shoulders.

Here, there was no crown, no duty—only his love.

The realization hit him so forcefully that he broke the kiss, his forehead resting against hers as they both fought for air.

She smelled of roses and faintly of candlelight, delicate and intoxicating.