Page 6 of Scent of Desire
Hugo was just like Mrs. Walton in a way. Both had the talent to meddle in my personal business. A thing they’d never done before Lily.
She was still lying on the grass, Cerba watching over her. She was peaceful, and yet she had no idea all the destruction I’d do to protect her. She had given me back a piece of my heart.
But hell, it was the worst one.
I’d do anything for her.
Especially the cruel, the damned, and the worst.
The warmth of the sunlight hugged me with its golden arms.
It kissed my face, beaming down on me with brilliant rays, and I had to close my eyes. My fingertips grazed the grass, the birds rocking me in a heavenly melody. I lay in the midst of the daisies and poppies, a fresh swell of wind bringing to my nostrils the smells of the upcoming spring.
It was earthy and aqueous, the scent of wet grass and green scents symbolizing the blossoming new. I wished to be transported to Paris for an instant. I missed sauntering by the alleys of cherry blossom trees and the flower shops full of roses.
Spring was my favorite season.
But spring this year had a different meaning for me. An uncertain outcome.
The sunshine had left my face, replaced by an imposing shadow. I thought it was a dark cloud until Cerba wiggled her tail on my dress. Someone had masked the sun, matching its brightness with his somberness. Only one person had this godly power.
My eyelids peeled open. My heartbeat increased at the sight of Radcliff standing up tall and menacing on top of me. He had a cold-blooded grace, one that could bring the envious and prestigious kings out of their graves. The sun tried to pierce from behind him with narrowing rays contrasting with another of his pitch-black suits.
My lips curved into a smile, and the merciless view of him brightened my conflicted heart. He was a dark angel that had come to capture me. A chill of fear coursed through my core at the thought of telling him I had made the aphrodisiac. Would he use it as a destructive means and become only a dark spirit thirsty for revenge? Would he get rid of me and his heart once he had what he wished for the most? Nothing would ever be the same.
“Lily.” The rasp of Radcliff’s voice tingled my insides. “Back in your element.”
He eyed the flowers encircling me almost with disdain, as if they were the wicked hands of men groping me.
“Why don’t you join me?” My teeth tugged at my bottom lip.
One of his eyebrows rose so slightly it was almost imperceptible. It felt like I had asked him to play some childish game, and he stepped away, letting the sun blind me. Handling the heat of the sun was one thing, but the one he ignited inside of me was tremendously warmer.
“Perhaps I prefer to look at you from where I’m standing.”
I held the chaos in his eyes. His irises didn’t let in any light like a stormy cloud. It was a house where purple shadows would try to evade, a mystery wedging into the depths. A tale as old as time.
“That’s why you came here? To look at me?” I sat up and passed my fingers through the flowers stuck in my hair, which I tied into a side braid. Then, like barrettes, I pricked the daisies back into my hair to embellish it.
“I warned you, you will not escape me.”
“What if I try?”
“A little too late for that, little witch. I’ve fingered you. Tasted you. Been inside you.” His eyes shimmered, a sly grin slanting his mouth.
My braid came undone at the end. A jolt of hot lust, like red camellias and roses, pooled between my legs by the threat and rawness of his tone.
“Hell, you’ve provoked me in every possible way. Every action has consequences,” he added.
Those were consequences I’d gladly assumed and let them consume me whole. He was wrong, and there was no denying something magnetic and almost demonic united me to him. Us, it was not rational, nor a blessing from heaven.
By giving Radcliff what he and I craved, I’d fallen on the dark side, with the uncertainty to drive back to the light. If our obsessions had engendered the most unholy weapon, what would our desire give birth to?
“You didn’t answer my question.” My voice was demanding and weak.
“I’ll burn the world to find you.” He was deadly serious.
I thought we were playing around, but the seriousness of his tone sent a shiver down my spine. I believed him. He’d burn the world, and it aroused me. The way he radiated power, the impossible bowing to him. The way he cloaked the night, how his surrounding darkness could fight the light of day. The mysteries encircling him and the moonlit tale we could write.
