Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

T he sight of the small pond soothed Ciara. She could not hear the chatter of the guests any longer. The quiet, serene setting was a welcome escape from the judgmental whispers and curious stares. Bending over the pond, she cupped her hands and splashed the cool water onto her neck, letting the chill calm her racing heart.

As she stood up, she inhaled, gazing at the surface of the pond, mirroring the sun high up above. She began to sing softly, her voice barely louder than the gentle rustling of the leaves.

Close your eyes, my darling dear,

Let the stars above be near,

Dream of fields of emerald green,

Where troubles fade and hearts are seen.

It was an old Irish lullaby, one her grandmother used to sing to her every night before Ciara would drift off to sleep. After a moment, she leaned against a sturdy tree, closing her eyes. The cool breeze against her back was grounding, reminding her of the strength she had within. She focused on her breathing, in and out, letting the song’s gentle rhythm guide her thoughts away from the party.

“I didn’t know you had such a beautiful voice.”

Before she could even open her eyes to see who the deep baritone belonged to, she felt two strong hands lock around her waist, pulling her into a kiss.

It was a kiss of claiming someone, of awakening deep, slumbering desire that thundered through her body with the strength of an avalanche. His lips crashed against hers as if they had kissed a million times before. Without thinking, her body melted into his own, without a single thought regarding the danger they were in.

His hands were on her waist, keeping her close to him as her hands flew around his neck. She had no idea what was happening. All she knew was that she didn’t want to be anywhere else. He angled his head and completely took control of her body, of her mind. When he gently sucked at her lower lip, her mind was obliterated. Her insides were on fire as she moaned softly against his lips, not even realizing that she was doing it.

For a moment, she let herself get lost in the kiss, in the way his mouth moved against hers, the way his body pressed close to hers. It was intoxicating, exhilarating, and terrifying all at once. Her hands found their way to his chest, feeling the solid muscle beneath his clothes, anchoring herself as the intensity of the kiss grew.

Then, as quickly as it had happened, he pulled back, leaving her breathing heavily and with her heart still racing, trying to make sense of what had just happened. However, his hand still lingered on the small of her back.

Her eyes now wide open; she could immediately see that he was a stranger. A devilishly handsome stranger but a stranger, nonetheless. Her lips still tingled from the passionate kiss he had just given her, and she knew that her cheeks were flaring from his proximity. Dark curls fell over his forehead, and he stared at her with his chiseled chin and jaw, giving him the appearance of a Greek god.

“Well, you are not Elizabeth,” he grinned in obvious pleasure, “but I can’t say I am complaining.”

Fully regaining her composure, she pushed him away, creating what appeared to be only a semblance of safe distance between them. She could only hope that he couldn’t hear the thundering of her heart and what their kiss had done to her.

The man stood tall and well-built, exuding a commanding presence. His black hair, neatly styled, contrasted strikingly with his dark blue eyes that gleamed with intensity and intelligence. High cheekbones and a strong jawline gave his face a chiseled, aristocratic look while his impeccable attire and confident bearing completed the picture of a refined and powerful gentleman.

“What on earth were you thinking?” she managed to gasp, refusing to acknowledge how handsome he was, still inflamed from the kiss, a passion that only seemed to make her fury even more potent.

“Come on, darling. Do not act as though you were raised in a nunnery,” the man purred, his eyes dark and mysterious.

“How did you know?” she gasped, feeling as if someone had punched her in the stomach.

“Know what?” he asked in confusion, and Ciara realized he was not speaking literally.

“Um, never mind,” she mumbled with a hasty shake of her head, stepping further away.

He reached for her and gently grazed her shoulder with the tips of his fingers, gesturing at her gown. “This is all a misunderstanding, you see. A very silly one.”

“A misunderstanding?” she gasped. “A misunderstanding is bumping into someone or stepping on someone’s foot. Not kissing someone, you vulgar man!”

“Do you always do this?” he asked, tilting his head as if to take a closer look at her which only infuriated her even more.

“Do what?” she snarled.

“Prevent people from explaining themselves,” he clarified. There was something about the way he seemed so unapologetic as if he had done absolutely nothing wrong. That only seemed to infuriate her even more, her cheeks revealing her state of mind.

“There is nothing you can say to explain yourself.” She shook her head incredulously.

“May I try?” he asked with a sly grin. He didn’t wait for her to finish. Instead, he merely continued, boldly confident of his charm. “I was following a lady with a gown the same color as yours. I assumed it was her standing by the tree, waiting for me as we had agreed.”

Her nostrils flared up at the thought of him having mistaken her for a lady who would so easily call upon a man to follow her away from the party.

“That only shows how much attention you were paying to the lady in question,” she told him furiously.

She had no idea where all that boldness was coming from. She wondered where it was when she had been talking to Sarah and her friends. But she was not enraged then. Now, she was.

For a moment, she thought he would be offended by her words, but he was only further amused. “I do apologize for having mistaken you for her, but if you don’t mind me saying, it would seem that you enjoyed that kiss as much as I did.”

Her cheeks flared up even more at those words. “How dare you insinuate such a thing?” she demanded, taking a shocked step back.

She thought he was rude before, but now, she thought he was a downright scoundrel. His apology was not even a proper apology, and he dared to point out… the truth. That very thought exploded inside her mind, reminding her that it would be best to simply leave both this place and this man and go home. Yet, she felt frozen in place.

“Careful,” he grinned, watching her move back. “You might fall into the pond, and then I will have to rescue you. Imagine having to explain that to everyone.”

She glanced back, realizing that he was right. She was dangerously close to the edge, so she stepped in the opposite direction, nearing him once again. She immediately knew that this proximity was a dangerous thing. His cologne overpowered her completely. Her mind was a haze from his smile and the kiss that they’d just shared.

“But perhaps you would like me to touch you again,” he teased. “Your body reacted to me so easily, giving itself away; it was as if you were expecting me to come, beckoning me with your song.”

“My body reacted in surprise,” she replied furiously. “It did nothing. You did everything.”

“That isn’t how I remember it.”

“You… are not a respectable gentleman,” she said through clenched teeth, feeling a desire to slap him, but she resisted the temptation to do so for the simple fact that he was right.

Her own comment made him laugh, and much to her chagrin, she realized that he was even more handsome when graced with that unrestrained laughter. Now, she wanted to slap him even more.

“Respectable men do not kiss like that,” he teased, nearing her even more. His hand lingered close to her shoulder, the proximity making her tremble, but he made sure not to touch her. “And neither do respectable ladies.”

Respectable ladies. That was what Mother Superior used to tell them. That was what was expected of them. Every deviation from being good was a deviation from God. And right now, she felt that deviation more than ever before. Her body was insanely drawn to him. She could not deny that, at least not to herself. She felt sinful and dirty, and she knew that she could not remain there with him any longer.

“You are a rake,” she said the only word she could think of. “And I shall not be in the company of one.”

She turned on her heel to leave immediately, but before she could do so, she felt his hand gently gripping her elbow, preventing her from leaving.

“At least, tell me your name, siren.”

His own voice was the beckoning of a siren. She immediately remembered Odysseus and his sailors, who only survived because they could not hear the siren song. She had to resist the pull, the temptation, no matter how hard it was. At the same time, she could not force herself to leave without giving him a name.

But not hers.

“Sarah,” she said suddenly, blurting out the name. “Sarah Danforth.”

He chuckled at her words. She wondered why. She was already walking when she heard him call out after her.

“Very well, siren,” he said, and she knew then that it would be a name she would never forget. “Let our little game begin.”