by Peak, Renna
When I open my eyes, the world seems a few shades darker than before. I glance up, and I realize I no longer see patches of blue showing through the branches of the trees. Instead, the sky is gray. A moment later, rain begins trickling down through the leaves.
I guess that’s my cue to go back. With a sigh, I pull myself to my feet. When I glance around, though, I realize I don’t remember which direction I came from.
This is why New Yorkers don’t hike, I think, turning slowly and looking for anything that seems familiar. I could find my way anywhere in Manhattan without even trying, but it’s laid out on a nice, simple grid. The woods aren’t that accommodating.
There’s a twisted tree to my right that I think I remember passing. That’s as good a direction as any. The rain has started to come down a little harder, and lingering here probably isn’t the best idea.
If I’d been smart, I’d have kept the lake in sight, I think, starting through the trees. If I find the lake again, it will be easy to follow the path back around to the manor. I might be soaked by then, but at least there’s a huge fireplace in my suite.
The rain begins to fall even harder. And in the distance, I hear the low rumble of thunder.
Think of the fireplace, I tell myself. Think of the nice, hot bath you’re going to have when you get back. Think of the cup of hot tea you’re going to drink.
I quicken my pace through the trees, praying I’m going the right way.
Nicholas
The sky darkens as I trudge back in the direction of the manor.
Let it rain, I think. Let it rain so hard the ground opens and swallows me whole.
I will never give my heart to another woman. Look at what happens when I do—they take it and stomp on it. It isn’t worth being vulnerable—ever.
She said no. There’s no denying the pain in my chest, as though someone has stabbed me and left me bleeding and raw. I can’t believe how stupid I’ve been. I can’t believe I actually thought Clara loved me.
I’ve been a fool for the last time. I’m uncertain of what I should do now—there is still business to attend to in Wintervale, and as soon as that is completed, I suppose I should return to the palace and report to my father. After that…I’m not sure. My heart aches to return to my ranch in Montana, but what would be the point? Clara won’t be there—and my horses are somewhere en route to Montovia. I’d be all alone.
And isn’t that what I wanted in the first place? Perhaps a few months of being alone—actually alone—wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. It might actually help me sort my thoughts—and to figure out where I went wrong this time. I’m obviously not cut out to have a true romantic relationship. I clearly cannot read women—I’d thought for certain that Clara shared my feelings. But I was wrong.
Again.
I’m not about to make the same mistake twice. It isn’t worth this sort of torture.
The rain begins to fall as I near the manor, and I steel myself when I see my cousin Caspar waiting near the entrance.
He walks out into the rain to meet me. “Where is your betrothed?”
My spine bristles at his words—he wasn’t eavesdropping on our conversation, was he? I clear the thought from my head—how could he have arrived back at the manor if he was with us at the ruins?
I merely shake my head at him. If I so much as speak Clara’s name, I’m not certain I can hold myself together.
“She isn’t with you?” He glances up at the sky. “The storm is supposed to be terrible—we’ve been warned there may be some flooding.”
I look over my shoulder toward the lake, part of me hoping that Clara followed me here but stayed out of my view. But there is no sign of her.
Something pangs in my gut at the thought she might be lost—and in another rainstorm, no less. I turn back to my cousin. “We parted at the ruins. I’m not sure which direction she might have gone.”
Caspar frowns, his brow furrowing. “It’s pointless to mount a search party if we’ve no idea which direction she went.”
I feel another pang—this time, I’m certain it’s guilt. Why didn’t I take note of where she went? Even if she did reject me, I’m still responsible for her wellbeing as long as she’s in Montovia.
Caspar stares at me. “How can you not know where she went, Cousin?”
“Well, there are few places she might have gone—she obviously went in the opposite direction or I would have seen her.” Even as I say the words, I know I’m to blame. I left her. She rejected me, and I left her. She may very well have come after me, but if that was her intent, she would have caught up to me by now.
No, she definitely would have gone in the opposite direction.
“I’ll find her. I need a horse.”
“Don’t be stupid.” Caspar’s brows draw closer together. “The stable hands won’t even consider readying a horse in this weather.” He glances over my shoulder. “I’ll get Xavier and Benedict, and we should all go out and search for her.” I can hear the exasperation in his voice, as though he knows it’s my fault that Clara is alone in the rain somewhere on the grounds.
If he knew how she’d just rejected me, perhaps he’d see why I was right to leave her out there. But now is not the time or place for such conversation.
Caspar turns and goes into the manor, bringing out his brothers a few moments later. They’ve brought me an umbrella, though with the wind picking up as it has, it doesn’t seem as though an umbrella is going to be the best idea. Caspar’s had already turned inside out, and we haven’t even begun our journey.
Caspar throws the umbrella to the ground in disgust. “Xavier, you and our cousin should go that way.” He points in the opposite direction I just came from. “Benedict and I will go back toward the ruins. If any of us finds her we can call—”
He stops speaking suddenly, and we all turn to follow his gaze. A drenched Clara walks out of the woods and toward our group.
“Hey,” she says, grinning as she comes to stand between Benedict and Xavier. “It’s a little wet out there.”
“Clara…” Caspar smiles at her. “We were all terribly worried.”
“Well, I’ve been through worse storms. Looks like this one’s going to get pretty bad, though.” She looks up toward the sky, completely ignoring me. “I’m going to go in and get dried off.” She grins over at Caspar. “And when I’m done, I wouldn’t mind if we picked up where we left off last night.”
Clara
I’m cold and soaked and miserable, but at least I’m not in the woods anymore. That’s what I tell myself as I march up the steps to the manor house without even a glance in Nick’s direction. I’m pissed at him, I’m pissed at myself, and being soaked to the bone isn’t improving my mood. It physically hurts to hold my grin. I need a hot bath and a strong drink, stat.
No one tries to stop me as I head inside and up to my room. Within minutes, I’m shut away behind my locked door. Then I peel off all my wet clothes, leaving them in a trail on the floor as I make my way to the bathroom.
None too soon, I’m sitting up to my neck in a steaming tub of water overflowing with lavender-scented bubbles, trying to soak away my complicated feelings. Outside, the storm still rages—I can hear the rain beating against the roof, and the regular rumble of thunder—but in here, I’m safe and warm. I sink lower into the tub, letting the water come all the way up to my chin. The bubbles ripple and swell on the surface of the water.
He didn’t even notice I was gone, I think. He has no idea I was lost for a while there. If he’d cared, he would have turned back and found me the moment it started raining. The man is so self-absorbed that it’s a miracle he’s managed to fall in love with anyone, let alone two women in the course of a few years. Maybe it’s better if he runs away again. That would save me the trouble of having to send him away myself. I can’t be with a man who’s that aloof. And definitely not one who’s in love with another woman and refuses to admit it.
I lean my head back against the side of the tub, c
losing my eyes. The heat of the water is helping somewhat. I’m still miserable, but only the sort of miserable that comes from emotional turmoil, not the sort of miserable that comes from being trapped outside in a rainstorm.
Maybe I can just stay here forever, I think. Never leave this bath. The servants can bring me my meals. And regular bottles of alcohol. That sounds like a good plan to me.
I take a couple of deep breaths, soaking in the lavender scent, letting my body relax. Eventually, I start to feel a little better. Almost like myself again. Sleepiness begins to overtake me, and I don’t fight it.
One moment I’m on the brink of sleep, the next I’m suddenly aware of someone standing over me. I jerk awake, sitting up so fast that I slosh water over the side of the tub.
It’s Nick. He’s frowning down at me as if I’m the one doing something wrong.
“What are you doing here?” I demand. “Can’t you see I’m a little busy right now?”
“I wanted to check on you,” he replies.
“How did you even get in here?” I sink back down so the bubbles are up to my chin. It’s not like hasn’t seen me naked before, but I’m mad at him, and I don’t particularly feel like showing him my body at the moment. “I locked the door.”
“I used to play here as a boy,” he reminds me. “I could probably pick the lock on any door in this entire house.”
“Well, you’re not welcome here,” I tell him. “Get out.”
He sighs and rubs his forehead. “I don’t understand, Clara. Why are you mad at me?”
“Why? Because you’ve put me in an impossible position!” I want to sit up and shake my finger at him, but instead I keep my hands tucked beneath the water. “You proposed to me when you still have feelings for another woman!”
“How many times do I have to tell you that I do not have feelings for her?” He rubs his head again. “I came here to request a truce, Clara, but I need you to trust me.”
“I’ll trust you if you can bring yourself to tell me her name,” I counter.
He shakes his head. “That’s not how this is going to work.”
“Then I’m not playing.”
He sighs. “You’re impossible.”
“So I’ve been told.” I shift some of the bubbles around, making sure I’m still completely covered.
“What do I have to do to make you believe me?”
“It’s pretty straightforward—stop treating her like some specter who can never be spoken of.”
“That’s not how trust works.” He shakes his head again.
“Then I guess we’re at an impasse,” I reply, shrugging in my cloak of bubbles. I settle back against the side of the tub. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m having a bath. And I was enjoying myself quite a bit before you broke in and disturbed me.”
I close my eyes, resuming the position I was in when he walked in, but the minutes pass and he doesn’t move away. Finally, I open my eyes again just a slit, peering up at him. He’s unbuttoning his shirt.
“What are you doing?” I demand.
“I thought I’d join you.”
“What?!”
He pauses, looking over at me. “Do you object?”
“We’re fighting,” I remind him. “It’s probably not the time for you to climb into the tub with me.”
“On the contrary, I think it’s the best time.” He continues unbuttoning his shirt. “We might be having a disagreement in one part of our relationship, but that doesn’t mean we need to have one in all parts.”
“You’re crazy,” I tell him. “You can’t be serious about this.”
But he removes his shirt, folding it and placing it carefully next to the sink. He looks at me again, his eyes steady and level.
“If you really want me to, I’ll leave,” he tells me. “But I’d rather stay here and join you.”
I’m not sure what to say. The part of me that’s so angry and frustrated with him wants to order him from the room and curse him out for putting me in this position in the first place. On the other hand…it might be crazy, but all this turmoil inside me is actually making me feel a little amorous. I need an outlet for all this tension.
“Well?” he says. I swear the corner of his mouth twitches, almost as if he’s fighting back a smile. He already knows he’s won, the bastard.
“I’m not stopping you from staying,” I say finally. “But I don’t have to enjoy this.”
“I disagree. If you don’t intend to enjoy this, then I have no intention of staying.”
He’s just toying with me now, the asshole. I refuse to look at him.
“I’ll try to enjoy it a little,” I tell him.
“Oh, you’ll enjoy it quite a lot.” I hear his belt come undone. “Or I’m not doing my job right.”
There’s a rustle as his pants fall to the floor, but I still refuse to look. I stay as I am, closing my eyes to slits again, pretending to be drifting back off to sleep.
A moment later, I hear him approach the tub. I open my eyes just a little bit wider, taking in the sight of his naked body. Why does he have to be so ridiculously attractive? Why can’t he be repulsive? It would be so much easier to stay mad at him then. Or at least to send him away.
Slowly, he lowers himself into the tub. The water rises around me, the water coming up to my ears. It’s a large tub, with more than enough room for two, but his legs still tangle with mine beneath the water.
“Ah, this feels nice,” he says as he sinks deeper. “Especially after that rain.”
“I know,” I reply. “That’s why I decided to take a bath in the first place.”
My eyes still aren’t open all the way, but I see him smile. Why does he have to smile? He knows it gets my insides all twisted up!
For a few minutes, he doesn’t say anything or make any sudden moves. He just sits there in the tub, opposite me, watching me watch him. Eventually, I let my eyes fall completely closed again, pretending he isn’t there.
A moment later, I feel his hand gently touch my leg beneath the water. Slowly, his fingers drift over my foot, up my calf, across my knee. I’m grateful for the heat of the water, because it keeps me from shivering at his touch.
He doesn’t stop there, though. His hand moves higher, up my thigh and along the side of my hip. After teasing me there for a moment, his fingers begin to move in reverse—back down my thigh, over my knee, down my calf.
“I know what you’re doing,” I tell him without opening my eyes.
“Do you?”
“Yes. And it’s not working.”
“Shame. Does that mean I should stop?”
“Of course not.”
He chuckles, and then starts the process again. I keep my eyes closed, both fighting the arousal in my body and silently begging him to keep teasing me.
As his hand moves still higher, though, I have to admit to myself that resisting this is a losing battle.
Nicholas
Our lovemaking is as passionate as it has ever been, and we hold each other in silence for a long while. Finally, I pull her out of the water, wrapping a soft robe around her before I do the same for myself. I lead her over to the bed and pull her into my arms.
“This still doesn’t change anything, you know,” she says.
“Mm.” I pull her against me, and she nestles into the crook of my arm.
“I’m serious, Nick.” She presses a hand against my chest, looking up at me. “If you want this to work—if you want us to work—you have to start trusting me.”
I pull her hand into mine, placing a kiss on her fingers. “I do trust you, Clara. I wouldn’t have brought you here if I didn’t. And you need to start trusting me.” I’m still not sure why she can’t see reason. If I were trying to hide anything from her, I definitely wouldn’t have brought her to Montovia, let alone to Wintervale.
“You know what I mean.” Any sleepiness that had been in her voice is gone again.
“I’m not sure what it is you want from me, Clara. I brought you here, d
idn’t I?” I wrap my arm more tightly around her. “I’ve asked you to marry me—”
“Don’t.” Something about her voice changes. “Just…don’t.” She sits, pulling away from me. “You should probably go.”
“Clara…” I let out a long breath. “I just do not understand—”
“Well, let me spell it out for you, then.” She stands, placing her hands on her hips. “You’re clearly still in love with another woman. Asking me to marry you is not going to change a thing about that.”
“I…” I really don’t know how to respond to these accusations. Sara broke my heart two years ago. It took me a long time to get over her, yes, but I’m certainly not still in love with her. How can Clara not see that she is the one I love?
I stand, fastening my robe more tightly around myself. “If you truly believe—after all we have been through—that I could possibly be in love with anyone else, perhaps it is time for me to go.”
“Perhaps it is.”
I shake my head at her. “I love you, Clara. I thought I had made that clear to you—”
“You’ve made plenty of things clear, Nick. Like how you don’t trust me with your secrets.”
“This…” My hands clench into fists at my sides. “There is no secret. I fail to understand why you don’t understand. I don’t understand why you will not trust me—”
“You can’t even bring yourself to tell me what happened—”
“She broke my heart. She…she chose another man. Surely, you of all people can understand why I might not want to speak of it with you.”
Her jaw clenches for a moment. “I of all people? And what exactly is that supposed to mean?”
My eyes flutter closed for a moment. This is not at all how I wanted this day to go. Perhaps it was too early to ask for Clara’s hand—and perhaps I asked for the wrong reasons.
“It means…nothing. I’m sorry I said anything.”
She glares at me for a moment, and then her expression softens a bit. “She really picked someone else? Over you?”
