Page 45 of Moonlit Temptation

Ten out of ten, I would do it again.

He took me for a stroll through the gardens at Buckingham Palace, where outside the gates I did try to make one of the guards crack their stoic concentration. Not with a board, but with a litany of other antics.

I didn’t succeed.

Saint cheered me up with a high tea at Fortnum & Mason, a favorite of my mom’s.

It was hard being in London without her, but Saint made it easier. Helped keep her memory alive. Something my family hadn’t done in far too long.

A calming salve to my aching soul.

While we explored the city during the day, the nights were for a different kind of exploration.

Saint was very conscientious of my body, very in tune with my needs. Going as far as to put them above my wants. Of his.

Some nights we had sex, but others, like the night before last, we simply laid on our sides, Saint’s fingers lazily dancing along my thigh as we talked and laughed.

We didn’t mention my family, though they hung over our heads.

Saint snuck in hours of work periodically throughout the day, telling my brother that things weren’t as locked down on the London front like he had thought.

He needed more time. Needed more time to stay.

Stay here with me.

Archer called me the night Saint didn’t get on his plane. I didn’t answer, too preoccupied with Saint’s return. But he left a message. And that message had Saint’s face creasing with guilt, and had spiked my anxiety.

Anxiety that grew every day since he wouldn’t stop calling. Twice a day, to both of us, Archer reached out.

Last night, he even asked Saint if he could check on me. I sounded distant and he was worried. Saint told him it was no problem, but the guilt that lined his face as he met my eyes broke my heart.

Especially with how grateful Archer sounded, knowing he didn’t have to worry about me around Saint. That he trusted him to look out for me.

Saint went onto the balcony for a long time after the call ended.

I found him, hours after we had gone to bed, sitting on the floor, hunched over his laptop with his glasses askew and screen tilted away from the bed, from me, the light low.

“What are you doing down there?” I rubbed my hazy eyes, voice leaded with sleep.

He startled, slamming his laptop shut in the process. “Just sending some emails. Go back to bed.”

“You said you finished all your work earlier.”

“Something came up,” he answered, almost cagey, as he pushed his laptop off his lap.

I was too sleepy to push for more. In fact, I fell asleep before Saint even stood up.

Now, in the early rise of morning, I touched the base of my neck, feeling cool metal on my fingertips.

With Saint’s surprise return, I forgot all about the present he got me. Too lost in him as we haphazardly made our way to the first available surface, which happened to be a desk with a lamp that got in our way. We broke it but hadn’t even paused for that.

I didn’t get to open the present until the next morning, when I woke up to see it placed on my bare stomach. It was a silver necklace with two stars on it. One star was slightly bigger than the other and hung a little higher.

It was delicate. It was minimal. It was me.

Stars had always been my obsession, and now I had them with me even when the sun chased them away.

Sunlight filtered in through the curtains, cutting the room with a warm, golden glow that stretched across to the bed.

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