Page 76 of Wings of Shadow
The soft ping of an incoming email breaks the stillness of my office. I glance at my screen, expecting another dull update, but the subject line stills my breath:
Open when alone – K.
I close the door, heart thrumming. Fingers trembling, I open the message. A single image appears—a rose petal, red and lush, with elegant script overlaid:
Noon. The usual place. Bring only yourself.
A thrill shivers through me, sweet and sharp. Our clandestine meetings are growing more reckless, more dangerous. And I know, even as desire blooms hot in my chest, that I’ll go. I’ll always go. The risks be damned.
The hours crawl by. At 11:55, I make an excuse and slip from the gallery. A sleek black car waits at the curb. The driver steps out and opens the door.
“Where are we going?” I ask, sliding into the cool leather seat.
He smiles, polite but tight. “I’m sorry, mademoiselle. Mr. Drachenstein’s instructions were very clear.”
I don’t press. I already know better.
The drive takes us to the edge of the city, where we pull up beside a private airfield. My pulse quickens as I spot Kaisner’s jet gleaming on the tarmac, its engines humming low and expectant.
And there he is.
Kaisner stands at the base of the stairs, dressed in tailored linen trousers and a crisp white shirt, the sleeves rolled up to expose tanned, tattooed forearms. He holds a bouquet of deep red roses, and as his eyes meet mine, the world narrows to him. To this.
“You look ravishing, as always,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to my cheek. His lips linger longer than propriety allows. “But I thought you might prefer a change of attire.”
He gestures to a garment bag draped over his arm. “Shall we?”
Once aboard, I change into the dress he’s chosen—a wrap of pale pink and blue seafoam silk that ripples with every breath. When I emerge, Kaisner is waiting with a glass of champagne.
“To stolen moments,” he says, eyes never leaving mine as we clink glasses.
As the jet takes off, Kaisner pulls me close, his lips finding that sensitive spot just below my ear. “Do you have any idea how maddening it is,” he murmurs, “to see you every—single—day and not be able to touch you like this?”
I gasp as his teeth graze my skin. “Kaisner… we shouldn’t…”
But my body betrays me, arching into his touch, needing it. Needing him.
“Tell me to stop,” he says softly, voice low and dark.
I don’t. I can’t.
Instead, I pull him in, claiming his mouth with mine. We lose ourselves to the heat, to the desperate, dangerous need that burns between us. Hands roaming, lips searching. Reality vanishes beneath us.
All too soon, the pilot announces our descent. I glance out the window, and my breath catches.
Rugged cliffs plunge into sapphire water, the Amalfi Coast stretching beneath the sunlight like a secret paradise.
A sleek yacht waits for us at the marina, its white hull gleaming in the Mediterranean sun. As we set sail, the coastline unfolds—a dream of pastel villages, sun-dappled terraces, and lemon groves spilling down cliffs, hidden coves beckoning with crystal-clear waters.
Kaisner stands behind me, his arms a steel band gripping my waist.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” he murmurs. His voice curls around me like smoke. “But not half as beautiful as you.”
I turn in his embrace, overcome by the sheer romance of it all. “Kaisner, this is… It’s too much. We can’t keep doing this. The risk of?—”
He hushes me with a kiss, soft but insistent. His lips linger, pressing a vow into my skin before he pulls back enough to murmur, “Let tomorrow worry about itself. Today is ours, baby girl… Just ours.”
And in that moment, I want to believe him.
