The ride to the isolated villa was ominously quiet. Caspian scooted over the seat from me in the lavish private jet, scanning papers on his tablet, his face stern and guarded. He had been distant since the previous threat, his guard becoming something close to possessive—something that thrilled and terrified me at the same time.
I tried to distract myself, gazing out the window at the cloud of blue above, but my mind only strayed back and back again to him. To us. To the way his mere presence had a way of taking up all available space we stepped into, forcing us to the periphery.
By the time we reached the clearing, there was already a black SUV waiting there. The journey to the villa was unorthodox and covered with winding forest roads and cliffs that were steep and daunting. The further we drove, the more relieved I was that we would be so secluded.
The villa Itself was breathtaking—an engineering miracle carved from the face of a mountain, gazing out across the horizon-sea that spread out beneath. Jasmine and salt were mixed with the scent of the Mediterranean in the warm hot evening breeze. The dramatic glass walls of massive proportions glittered with golden molten tones in the soft glow of the fading sun, casting long shadows on the cool marble floors.
I would have wished to be at home in that breathtaking environment, but some tension crept through the entire silence everywhere around us. No city sounds, no distraction. Nothing but Caspian, myself, and the suffocating pressure of whatever lingered unsaid between us.
The villa staff showed us in graciously before discreetly vacating, leaving Caspian and me by ourselves. Caspian opened the door for me, his motion stiff, formal.
“This is not a holiday,” he finally spoke, his tone harsh and deliberate. “There are parties, there are deals with concessions. I want you with me. No exceptions.”
I winced at the tone. “I’m not a child, Caspian. You can’t keep me hostage and lose the key.”
His icy, hard stare dared me, something malevolent brewing in his eyes. “You think that’s what this is?”
“What am I meant to think it is? You never tell me anything, you do everything on your own, and now you want me to trust you blindly?” I whispered now, but no less firmly.
Caspian inhaled deeply, as if fighting to keep his temper. “It’s not control, Lily. It’s safety.”
“And what if I don’t want to be safe. What if I want to know what’s going on?
A muscle in his jaw twitched. “Then you’re playing a dangerous game.”
There was silence between us, thick with tension.
There was a dinner for two on the patio that evening. The table was laid out nicely, the air thick with a wonderful fragrance, candles flickering in the soft breeze. The ocean far below glistened in the moonlight, waves pounding ceaselessly against the rocks. It would have been lovely, had there not been something charged between us, something much more volatile than the beautiful scenery.
Caspian filled two glasses of wine, his hands moving slowly. “You’re not saying much tonight.”
I glared at him, my hands tight on the edge of my glass. “Maybe I’m just trying to get to know you.”
A smile flashed on his mouth. “Good luck with that.”
“What do you mean by that?” I queried.
“You can only know what I want you to”. He snapped back.
I was livid and furious. “You pretend it’s better for you to keep me at arm’s length, but it is not, is it? The truth is, you are afraid.”
His smile disappeared from his face. “Watch yourself, Lily.”
“Or what Caspian? Warning me of something I don’t want to hear?”
I moved closer, braver with the wine, with the night, with the undeniable attraction between us.
“You can control your world, Caspian, but you can’t control this. Us.”
His eyes flared, his fingers tightening on his glass. “You that’s what I am trying to do? You think I don’t feel anything for you?”
The acceptance left me gasping, and I could feel my heart thudding against my chest. He stepped forward then, his hand over mine, and the simple contact of his skin against mine did something to me.
I should have moved away. I should have said something in an attempt to break the moment, to break the tension. But I couldn’t.
And so I allowed him to pull me in.
You make me crazy, Lily,” he growled, his voice deep and rough. “You challenge me more than anyone has ever challenged me.”
“Then quit fighting,” I breathed.
His hand inched up my arm, slow and intentional. “And what if I can’t?”
I gulped hard, my heart pounding. “Then we both lose.”.
The space between us went icy. Caspian’s mouth touched mine, a fleeting brush that left me shivering. But he didn’t follow through on the kiss, even though I knew it was what we both wanted.
He took a step back, facing me. His expression was stoic. “This is your last opportunity to change your mind, about all this."
I drew in a deep breath. “You already know what I’m going to tell you.”
Something shifted behind his eyes—a decision made, a line crossed. And then, at last, he kissed me.
It was not gentle. It was ravenous, angry, a meeting of fire and rage and something more that neither of us would ever dare name into being with words. His fingers tore through my hair, his lips hard on mine, he yanked my head back into the cold solidity of the marble railing.
The blackness came down around us, thick and warm, but I could sense only him—his mouth, his fingers, the unshakeable proof that in spite of our constant arguments, we both felt something for each other.
Later that night, I stood out at the balcony and gazed out into the black sea, my mind racing with game. I was supposed to be terrified of this attraction between us, the way that he had to actually unravel me with one look; instead, I was being overwhelmed with something so much more disgusting: I wanted to get lost in it.