He looked down from the window, a shadowy figure behind the glass. He watched as she wandered the gardens in the silent morning air. Her hands caressed the flowers as she passed by, her delicate white skin pronounced against the deep red of the roses. She looked up to the house and seemed to stare right at him. Her pale blue eyes pierced through the glass, straight through to him. He took a step back, further into the darkness of the room. He watched for a moment more until she looked down again, her attention again on the garden path. He tried to slowly let out his breath, but it still came out jagged and uneven.
James ran his hand through his jet-black hair and looked at the ceiling, praying for respite from the longing and pure carnal desire that he felt whenever he looked at that girl. She was his ward, and he was her protector. He knew the feelings he had were wrong, but ever since she had come back from her schooling he had been struck by the intensity of the desire he felt for her.
He remembered the day she had walked into parlor after her four years away with brilliant clarity. He had expected the same girl of who had left years before. He had assumed from her polite and indifferent letters of update that there had been no significant changes about her. She would, he realized be a little taller, being eighteen now. But he had thought she would still be the same pale, plain little slip of a thing who had been left in his care after the death of her parents who had been his close friends.
He could never have expected the young goddess who had walked in, so quietly he had barely heard her enter before she stood in front of him. Her skin was still as pale, but no longer did it make her appear sickly. Instead she seemed to glow, with the barest hint of a blush on her cheeks. Her straw hair had become a long and luscious blonde that reached just below her waist. She was still slim but her breasts had developed into succulent orbs that seemed barely contained in her pale blue gown, a gown that matched her eyes perfectly as they had stared down at him so serenely on that day. He had hardly been able to utter a word as she politely thanked him for his continued support and kind welcome back to the house. He had barely made it out of the room without succumbing to the urge of grabbing her and pressing her tempting body up against his own.
He sighed with frustration as he felt himself stir at the thought of having her sweet yet ever so tempting body pressed to him, her body shifting against his rock-hard erection. Ugh, he disgusted himself. To have such thoughts about a girl who was fifteen years his junior and in his eyes barely out of the nursery. A girl who he was sworn to protect, it was unthinkable. Yet, no matter how he tried he couldn't control it, and whenever he was near her, the urge to throw her down and plunge his hands into the sweet depths beneath those skirts was almost unbearable. He sighed as he walked out the room. It seemed he would again have to bury himself in work to try and get these base thoughts out of his head.
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Glancing away from the shadowy figure as it moved out of sight, Alira walked among the roses trying to find calm among the sweet smelling flower beds. She knew he felt desire for her, she had seen it in his eyes, or at least she thought she had. Yet, every time she was around him, he always seemed in a rush to leave the room. He avoided her like the plague and she didn't know what she had done wrong. She couldn't count how many nights since she had returned to the manor that she had cried herself to sleep out of love, frustration and desire. She had loved James since the moment she had met him. She had wanted to be his wife and lover since she was a child, before she even truly understood what being either entailed. Yet, years later and she loved him still. She went away to school hoping that she could build herself into the kind of woman that would be worthy of him. She knew she lacked looks and wealth, but she was determined that she was the best person for James, as no woman could ever love him as deeply as she had.
What foolish hopes she had had upon returning home! She had thought that she could tempt him, and that he would want to take her to his bed and into his heart. But instead she had been treated politely, almost coldly as he went about his business, seemingly avoiding her at every turn. Yet, she had felt his desire. The heat between them was almost tangible, and when he was close to her she found herself longing for his touch.
She knew the time had come to lay her cards on the table. She would have to try and elicit a response from him, if she wanted any chance of winning his affection. She knew where he would be, in his study. He had routinely locked himself in there every day since she had come home. Alira looked up towards the house again and tried to cement her resolve. Today was the day that she would make love to the man whom she had kept in her heart all these years.
With her decision made, she headed for the main house.
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James started at the quite nock at the door to his office. His servants knew not to disturb him while he was working. So when the quiet nock came again he walked to the locked door and opened it angrily. However, it was not a servant waiting patiently outside his study, but instead, his reason for keeping himself locked in there.
