Page 73 of Hawthorne

We’re far too connected to sever the bond now.

We would still be, even if we hadn’t given in. Because every moment spent with her—fucking, making love, talking, or arguing—is just another memory to add to the reason why we’re far too tethered. My heart has been pounding its way out of my chest for her long before I had even set my eyes on her all these weeks ago.

21

Camilla White

Weird. I’ve checked the entire house, and no one is around.

It’s Sunday. It means it’s a reduced staff day in itself, but I was far from expecting an empty manor. What’s going on?

Without the hustle of other employees cleaning, rearranging, and whatnot, the manor’s environment completely changes. The dark wood of the floor, combined with the coffered wall of the hall and timber staircase, alongside the baroque paintings, brings such a dark vibe to it. And the fact that the windows haven’t even been opened yet only adds to it.

Like a haunted house.

If I hadn’t lived here my whole life, I’d be slightly spooked.

“What is happening?” I mutter to myself as I walk to the front hall and open a couple of windows.

There’s only one person who’d know.

With the division looking slightly brighter, I decide to meet the man who is most likely responsible for the lack of staff working today.

My brain is overwhelmed with questions as I climb the stairs, wondering why the hell no one is here today. As soon as the double doors show up before my eyes, I knock on them.

We’re back to square one, giving in to pleasure and lust and ignoring the uncertainty of our futures. And yes, futures because those will most certainly not be shared. I am not sure which course the duke will take, but whichever it is, there’s only one result for me.

To be left behind, hurt and heartbroken. Like a wounded kitten licking their wounds in self-commiseration.

The door opens before me, scaring me. With a startled jump back, I lose balance and feel the weight of my body flying backwards. My arms flail around in a helpless attempt to find something I can grab and hold on to. Fortunately, I do.

My hands find Vincent’s strong, muscular biceps and hold on for dear life. Automatically, his arms wrap around me, keeping my body flush with his and avoiding a fall.

“You need to stop throwing yourself to the floor every time you set your eyes on me.” Vincent’s smirk is audible in the husky tone of his voice.

His brown eyes are slightly crinkled at the corners due to the small smile. Like this, flirty and not affected by his bad temper, he looks almost…gentle.

And so charming.

My cheeks burn, and I evade his gaze, suddenly embarrassed. I squirm in his hold, trying to free myself, but to no avail. Instead, Vincent tightens his hold and lowers his face, tapping my nose with his.

“Good morning,” he whispers, his minty breath filling my nostrils.

My skin breaks out in goosebumps, especially when he moves, grazing his nose down my cheek towards my neck. Then, his velvety lips press against the skin of my shoulder—alightpeck.

I tense before frantically looking around us, still in the middle of the hall.

“Someone could catch us,” I stutter out a whisper, panicked.

“There’s no one besides you and me in this manor today. Apart from my most trusted head of security and a few of his men.”

Oh, that explains why the place seems so empty. It explains the lack of noise or rustling around to complete tasks.

“Why isn’t anyone in?”

“It’s Sunday,” he answers like it’s an obvious answer. When I tilt my head in question, he continues, “I sent everyone to their families to have some rest. I won’t throw a tantrum if the manor collects dust for a day, and I certainly won’t die of hunger if I don’t have a royal menu concocted especially for me. I can cook for myself for a day.”

I knew Vincent was a considerate man. But even so, men like him often get trapped in the comfort of their lifestyle, losing track of the rest of the world, not remembering that for some to be able to maintain these luxuries, others are giving up a lot.

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