Chapter 10

Lady Siena thought that the book was magic, but it wasn't the book.

It was her.

He had asked her to begin reading aloud and suggested they take turns, but before he knew it, he was resting his head on the cushion of the chair behind him, her soothing voice lulling away the pain as he relaxed into the story.

As much as he had been trying to fight it, Levi couldn"t help but be drawn to her. It was not just due to the beauty that was obvious in her delicate features and fair hair, but for the strength and determination that shone from her brown eyes.

As Lady Siena continued to read, the words seemed to come alive in the room, weaving a spell as they swirled around them in a dance of emotions and untold stories.

Levi found himself lost in her presence, the world around them fading into insignificance. He stole glances at her delicate profile, the way her lashes fluttered with each sentence, the slight furrow of concentration between her brows.

He found himself captivated by every nuance of her being - the way her lips curved in a gentle smile at the humorous parts of the story, the way her eyes sparkled with mischief when she imitated different characters.

"The descriptions in this book," she commented, her tone changing at her words, "reminds me of Greystone."

"How so?" he said, his eyes closed now. "It speaks of a house full of love, light, laughter. That is nothing like Greystone."

"But the brightly colored bedooms, all in different hues? That cannot be a coincidence. I think that sometimes it is the people that make the home, do you not?"

He snorted. That said a lot about him.

"The emotion of the people, I should say, and how they feel about the house," she continued as though reading his mind, "it's all in here. How much the two people loved one another, and their hopes for a life together. Do you know anything about who owned Greystone before your family did?"

Levi shook his head. "Not much. Somehow it came to our family through a marriage dowry although when or how, I am not sure. I don't believe it has been lived in for years, however."

"If this book is true, then this was a happy home at one point in time, years ago," Siena said, her voice warm and light. "Perhaps it could be again."

Without realizing it, he had reached out to touch her. Her hand was soft and warm beneath his, but when his hand involuntarily began to wrap around hers, the tight pull of the skin reminded him of his injury. Of what he was.

He jerked his hand away, his eyes flying open as he sat upright in the chair, shocked at how he had forgotten himself.

"I am so sorry," he said as he realized she had quit reading.

"For what?" she asked.

"For touching you. With my hand. I?—"

"It's fine," she said, a smile playing across her lips, the book still splayed in her lap, open to the page she had been reading. "It was a touching moment in the story and… I enjoyed a moment with you. Truly."

He stared at her, trying to determine if she was having him on, but her expression was sincere enough that he knew she meant what she said.

Levi wasn't sure what to do with her, a woman who apparently saw past the horror that covered his face. He had shut himself off from the world because he couldn't handle the looks of disgust or pity that followed him around, especially when those expressions only matched what he felt himself when he looked in the mirror or fell asleep and the memories came rushing back in nightmares.

"You enjoy reading, then, do you?"

"I do," she said, a smile stretching across her face. "Very much. I so love the idea of adventure, but since I cannot go anywhere myself, why not experience it from wherever I am?"

She was so earnest and excited when she spoke that he couldn't help but want to share in it with her, in whatever way possible.

"Anything you find in this library that you enjoy can be yours," he said softly.

"What do you mean?" she asked, her cheeks flushing and her breath quickening.

"I mean that my gift to you is any book you would like – The Enchanted Garden, or any of Shakespeare's works that you are currently reading or anything else that you might find."

"I couldn't," she said, shaking her head. "They are yours."

"I only like to read each book once, and I have thousands in here that I am sure I will never get through."

"You like to read as well?" she asked, her brows raising as the smile crossed her cheeks.

"I do," he said, keeping tight control over his emotions. "The stories keep me company and replace my memories."

"Are they really so bad?" she asked, leaning in, her hand coming to rest on his leg.

"They really are," he said. "War is not something to talk about in polite company."

Of course, there was far more haunting him than war, but that alone certainly hadn't been the glorious experience many ladies would imagine.

"I don't mind," she said softly.

"You would if you knew what it was truly like. Men you spoke to moments ago suddenly—" He snapped back abruptly as her question brought him back to reality, a reality in which he had no right to be sitting so intimately with a woman as beautiful and vibrant as her, especially darkening her spirit by speaking of such things.

As he stood, light washed over him, and a quick glance out the window revealed that the sun was beginning to appear from behind the clouds.

"The rain has stopped," he stated, the fact filling him with both dread and relief. "We just have to wait for the roads to dry and then you can be away from here."

And with that, he bolted from the room as though he was being chased.

What had just happened?

One moment they were sitting together, enjoying a story and even bonding over their love of fiction, and the next he was running away as though she had insulted him.

Siena thought back over their interaction, not remembering anything that could have caused such a reaction in him. She sighed as she looked out over the grounds stretching behind the window, now illuminated by the sun that had broken through the clouds.

He was right. The rain had stopped. She walked to the window, crossing her arms over the book and holding it against her chest.

Was it a sign? Should she leave and discover what she was to do with the rest of her life?

Was she only comfortable here because she felt that she could hide away from the world and what it wanted from her? Or should she believe in this feeling of destiny that had brought her here – despite the duke who seemed to want her gone from his home and his land as fast as possible?

It was a question she pondered throughout the day, as she finished The Enchanted Garden, as she drank tea alone in the drawing room, and as she wandered the abandoned gardens outside of the library terrace doors.

The overgrown grass and tangled vines brushed against her dress as she walked through them, a reminder of the neglect and time that had passed since anyone tended to the gardens. The ground was soft and squishy beneath her boots, evidence of the heavy rain over the past few days and the lack of maintenance for the past few years.

Through the air, thick with the earthy scent of moss and decaying plants, she could hear the distant call of birds, and then, the whinny of a horse.

Lucky. She turned toward the sound, nearly expecting to see him coming up behind her once more, but all she saw was the flick of his heels and the swish of his black tail as he disappeared into the thicket of trees across the fields.

She was sure the duke hadn't seen her, or else he would have stopped and asked her in that gruff, surly way of his just what she was doing out here and why she wasn't inside within his home's protective walls.

It was interesting how the same overprotective man was the one who couldn't wait to send her away so that he could retreat into the shell of his estate once more.

Siena couldn't help herself from following the path Lucky had galloped, over the once-manicured paths and past the flowerbeds which were now littered with weeds. She picked her way carefully around the cracked and crumbling stone walls, circling the abandoned fountain as a hint of long-forgotten perfume lingered in the air, the remnants of a time when the gardens were loved and cared for.

She didn't know what she was hoping for as she followed in the path the man and horse had tread. She had no expectations of overtaking them, due to their speed, but she supposed she thought there might be something of interest in the path they had travelled.

By the time she reached the tree line, water from the rain-soaked long grass had invaded her boots but she forged on, warmed by the bright sun overhead, which beat down upon her cloak until she reached the canopy of the branches of leaves overhead.

It was both louder and quieter here on the forest floor. There was no wind nor distant noise, but the chattering of animals and insects went on all around her, calling to one another as they described all that was before them.

A murmuring caught her ear, and while she was gripped for a moment in fear at the memory of the last time she had come upon men in the forest, she was soon soothed when she recognized the voice.

She stepped out, about to announce herself, but stopped when she saw what the duke was doing. He was crouched down on the ground, but not the same unmanicured ground that surrounded him. There was a square of dirt that appeared to have been recently cultivated, and Siena gasped when she saw the flowers blooming within it.

The duke began to turn at the sound, and she jumped behind a tree to hide, but she was too late.

"Who is there?" he asked, standing with a swirl of his cloak and his hand on his hip as though ready to draw a weapon, like a warrior ready to face his foe. Lucky gave a whinny in her direction, and Siena jumped out with her hands in front of her.

"It is only me."

"Lady Siena? What are you doing out here?"

There was the gruff question she had been waiting for.

"I was walking," she said, not seeing why she would have to explain herself any further. "What is this?"

She began to round what appeared to be a garden, even as he shuffled back and forth, clearly uncomfortable.

"It is…" he struggled for words.

"It is a flower garden," she said, crouching, reaching a hand out to touch a soft, velvety petal. "The roses are beautiful."

She leaned in closer, drawn by the scent, but when she reached out to tug a rose toward her, this time she pricked her finger.

"Ouch," she said, bringing it up to her mouth and sucking on it gently.

Still not hearing any reply, she turned around to make sure that the duke was still there.

"Are you?—"

She stopped when she noted the expression on his face. His good eye was fixated intensely on her finger which was still sitting between her lips. His pupil dilated, becoming darker and larger as he took slow steps toward her.

"Your Grace?" she asked, her own breath becoming quicker and slightly erratic as his musky scent mixed with the roses around her. That was the scent she hadn't been able to identify. Roses.

"I told you to call me Levi," he growled. "I have no wish to be the duke."

She could only nod stiffly. "Levi," she whispered softly, which only seemed to agitate him further as he continued to stalk toward her slowly until he was standing right before her.

He reached out with his gloved hand, taking her fingers within his before slowly drawing them toward him, lifting them to his face before planting a kiss on her index finger, right where the rose had pricked her.

A flush of heat began spreading through Siena's veins, from where he touched her to every part of her body as her skin began to tingle with the imagining of what it would be like to feel his lips elsewhere upon her.

"Better?" he asked, his voice rough, and she nodded.

"Better," she tried to reply, only it seemed her voice had disappeared with her senses so heightened.

She tilted her chin up to his searching gaze, her heart thudding against her ribs, each beat resonating through her body. The air around them crackled with tension, the warmth of his breath mingling with hers. The weight of his gaze on her held a magnetic pull that drew her closer to him.

Levi seemed torn between desire and restraint, his hand lingering on hers, the touch sending shivers down her spine. Siena found herself holding her breath, caught in the intensity of the moment.

Without breaking eye contact, Levi slowly traced a finger along her jawline, his touch feather-light yet searing hot against her skin. Siena"s heartbeat quickened as she leaned into his touch, a silent plea for more. His thumb brushed against her lower lip, causing her to part them slightly in response.

The world around them seemed to fade away as they stood there in the middle of the woods, enveloped in this well-tended garden that was so at odds with the natural landscape around them.

Without a word, Levi closed the remaining distance between them, capturing her lips in a searing kiss.

The world spun around Siena as his arms encircled her, pulling her closer to his powerful frame. The sensation of his lips moving against hers sent a jolt of electricity through her entire body, igniting a fire within her as she lost herself into him, forgetting who she was as she became one with him instead of two separate people.

Siena's heart pounded in her chest as she allowed herself to be swept away by the moment, forgetting the rest of the world. She ran her fingers through his dark hair, the soft strands entwining with her delicate touch.

Their kiss deepened, becoming more urgent and passionate as they clung to each other under the canopy of the trees above them. Siena felt a sense of freedom she had never experienced before, a liberation from the constraints of society and expectations that had bound her for so long.

As surprisingly as he had kissed her, he released her abruptly, and she nearly fell backward with the intensity of the moment. Siena gasped, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she tried to gather her bearings. Levi stood before her, his gaze intense and unreadable, his own breath ragged.

"Siena," he began, his voice rough with emotion, "I shouldn"t have done that."

Confusion tugged at her features as she searched his face for any sign of what he truly felt. "Levi, I?—"

But before she could finish, he turned away from her, his back now facing her. A pang of hurt mixed with longing filled her as she watched him walk a few steps away, clearly battling some inner turmoil.

"Forgive me," he murmured, the words barely audible over the rustling leaves in the quiet glade.

Siena took a hesitant step towards him, her heart aching as the distance between them felt so much greater than it had before he had kissed her.

"There is nothing to forgive," she said. "If I hadn't wanted your touch, then perhaps, but I…"

She floundered, having no experience with such emotion, nor how to put into words what she was feeling. She hardly knew herself. All she knew was that she had enjoyed his touch, craved more of it, and she was surprised by the unexpected surge of anger that ran through her at his denial of what had occurred between them as nothing more than his own relinquishing to a base instinct.

"You have no right to say that to me."

That caught his attention as he whipped around, his cloak billowing about him like a character from a gothic novel.

"Pardon me?"

"If I was able to run away from a marriage that I didn't want, then I would certainly be able to pull back from an embrace if I had no desire for it," she said, as a newfound discovery about herself filled her – that she had the ability to make her own choices, and she wasn't going to allow anyone to take that away from her. "There is nothing to forgive because a kiss that two people wanted is not a mistake, but something to be celebrated."

Her chest was heaving now as she prided herself in her speech, even though it was uncomfortable to make.

"Why would you want to kiss me?" he asked, his voice ragged, his brow furrowed. "I have nothing to offer you."

The realization that he doubted himself more than he doubted her to make her own decision softened her ire, and she took a step closer to him again.

"You have more to offer than you think. You just have to believe it," she said. "Now, tell me about the rose garden."