Amara glanced around, her heart skipping a beat at the beauty surrounding her.
The mansion was undeniably stunning, with its pristine lawns that stretched toward the lake, the water so calm and clear that it mirrored the sky perfectly.
Everything about the place exuded elegance, luxury, and a kind of tranquil isolation that made it feel like they were the only two people left in the world.
“It’s… beautiful,” she admitted, her voice low, as though she were afraid speaking too loudly would shatter the fragile serenity around them.
Rowan’s gaze never left her, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “There’s more.”
Before she could respond, he gently placed his hand on her back, guiding her toward the mansion. As they passed through the gates, she noticed something strange but undeniably romantic.
The entire road leading to the front doors was covered with red rose petals, and on the left side, an immaculate garden bloomed with more red roses, each one perfectly arranged.
To her right, a private pool glistened, the surface still, except for the soft ripple created by white water lilies floating delicately.
The sight took her breath away. She couldn’t help but think of Vaughn. There was something in the way the flowers, the details, everything was arranged so perfectly.
It reminded her of her son’s thoughtful nature, and the realization that Rowan shared that same instinct for grand, romantic gestures unsettled her. How similar they were, both father and son.
Rowan’s voice pulled her from her thoughts. “I hope it’s up to your liking,” he said, watching her intently.
Amara nodded, admiration shining in her eyes. “It’s beautiful,” she repeated, her voice softer this time, more vulnerable.
Rowan smiled, his gaze flicking toward the mansion. “Thank you. Let’s go inside.”
Amara hesitated, her eyes narrowing slightly. “What’s inside?” she asked, her guard rising once again.
Rowan chuckled, seeing through her suspicion. “A surprise.”
She held his gaze for a moment longer, searching for any hidden motive behind his words.
But there was only warmth in his eyes, so she relented, following him through the grand entrance.
Inside, the lavish mansion opened into an expansive living room, and Amara’s breath caught in her throat at what she saw. The room was filled with balloons, more roses.. red, of course…and in the center, there was a table.
She walked over, her eyes drawn to a perfectly iced strawberry cake, her favorite flavor.
The sight of it sent a rush of emotions through her chest.
She turned, her eyes locking with Rowan’s as he approached her. He looked almost nervous for a second before that familiar, confident smile appeared on his lips. “Happy birthday,” he said softly, the words dripping with sincerity.
Amara nodded, her heart full, emotions swirling within her.
She wasn’t used to this… this kind of thoughtfulness… this attention…
It felt too personal, too close to the part of her she kept locked away.
Rowan lit the candles, his eyes never leaving hers, and then handed her the knife. “Cut it,” he said gently.
She hesitated for just a moment, then blew out the candles, the flames flickering out in the dimly lit room. She picked up the knife and cut a piece of the cake, placing it on a small plate.
But before she could take a slice, Rowan took the piece from her hand, his fingers brushing against hers.
“Here,” he murmured, lifting the piece of cake to her lips.
The gesture was intimate, too intimate, but she couldn’t bring herself to refuse.
Amara took a bite, the sweet flavor of strawberries melting on her tongue. “It’s delicious,” she said, her voice a little unsteady.
Rowan smiled, and without breaking eye contact, he ate the remaining piece from the same fork. “Mm, delicious,” he echoed, his voice low and velvety, sending an unbidden shiver down her spine.
Amara blinked, speechless, her heart racing as the tension between them thickened.
She needed to break the moment before it became too much, too overwhelming. “Where’s my birthday gift?” she asked, her voice light but laced with curiosity.
Rowan’s eyes widened in mock horror. “Gift? Shit, I forgot,” he said, feigning panic.
Amara raised an eyebrow, about to respond, but before she could, Rowan took her hand and led her toward the other side of the mansion. His grip was firm, unyielding, and though she tried to pull away slightly, he didn’t let go.
Her heart raced as they walked, the sensation of their linked hands both unnerving and comforting in ways she wasn’t prepared to confront.
Soon, Rowan paused in front of a large canvas, draped with a cloth. Amara stared at it, her pulse quickening.
“Is it some kind of painting?” she asked, glancing at him.
Rowan nodded, a mysterious smile playing on his lips. “Yes.”
Amara stepped closer, feeling the weight of his eyes on her as she reached for the cloth. “Can I… remove it?”
He stepped aside, allowing her the space. “You can.”
Taking a deep breath, Amara gripped the edge of the cloth and pulled it away, revealing the painting beneath. As the fabric fell to the floor, she froze, her breath catching in her throat.
The painting was of her.
Her likeness was captured with stunning accuracy, every detail of her face, her expression, her eyes.. it was all there, but more than just an image of her, the painting seemed to capture something deeper. There was a haunting beauty in it, a vulnerability that Rowan had somehow seen, had somehow immortalized on the canvas. She looked fierce and yet fragile, strong and yet… lost..
She couldn’t speak, couldn’t find the words to describe what she felt. Her hand hovered over her chest, her heart pounding so hard it echoed in her ears.
Rowan stepped closer, his eyes dark and intense as he studied her reaction. “Do you like it?” he asked softly.
Amara swallowed hard, her voice barely a whisper. “This is… me.”
“Yes, Crimson,” he said, his voice almost reverent as he said. “It’s how I see you.”
Her throat tightened, and for a moment, she couldn’t meet his gaze. How could he see her like this? How could he look past the layers she’d built around herself, the armor she wore, and see the raw truth that even she tried to hide?
The silence between them was thick, charged with something unspoken, something dangerous. Rowan stepped closer, his breath warm against her skin as he leaned in.
“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, his hand coming up to gently tilt her chin so that their eyes met again. “You always have been.”
Amara’s heart raced, her pulse throbbing in her throat as his words wrapped around her like a spell. She didn’t want to believe him, didn’t want to fall into the trap of this moment, but everything about it.. the intimacy, the way he looked at her, the way he seemed to know her so well… was pulling her in, unraveling her carefully constructed defenses.
And for a moment, just one moment, she let herself believe it.
Rowan’s gaze dropped to her lips, and before she could think, before she could stop him, he closed the distance between them, his lips capturing hers in a kiss that was slow, deliberate, and filled with the kind of intensity that left her breathless.
For a split second, Amara kissed him back.