Touch of Flame

Darcy stood near the large windows of the dining room, watching the raindrops as they raced down the glass panes. The sound of the rainfall outside was soothing, creating a sense of calm in the otherwise silent room. She had been waiting for Ephraim for some time now, and he was late for their dinner together. It wasn't like him to be tardy, and Darcy couldn't help but wonder what could have delayed him.

The fire flickered in the fireplace, casting warm, golden light across the room. Darcy traced the patterns in the wooden floor with her foot, growing more anxious as the minutes ticked by.

Suddenly, she felt a pair of strong arms encircle her waist from behind, pulling her gently against a warm, solid chest. A soft kiss was pressed to the nape of her neck, sending a shiver down her spine. Darcy leaned into the embrace, recognizing Ephraim's familiar scent and touch.

"You're late," she murmured, trying to mask her relief with a hint of playfulness.

"I am sorry, my dear," Ephraim whispered into her ear, his breath hot against her skin. "I've been preoccupied with a concerning matter."

Darcy turned around in his arms, her eyes searching his face for any signs of distress. "Is everything alright?"

Ephraim hesitated for a moment before nodding. "I hope so. Today was the day. I met Ares but... he fell sick. I brought him here."

"What happened to him?" She frowned.

"I am not sure yet. He seems to have a heart problem that is fatal."

"Oh, no," her frown deepened. "Is it that bad? Where is he now?"

"He is being cared for by the physician. Hopefully tomorrow he will be awake and we can talk to him."

Darcy nodded. She had a lot to ask. Who was he, and did he know where her sister was? Why did her father mention him?

"Now, enough about that, I don't want to spoil our evening together," Ephraim said as he released her from his embrace and took her hand, leading her to the beautifully set dining table.

The soft glow of candlelight illuminated their dinner, casting flickering shadows around the room. Ephraim pulled out a chair for Darcy, waiting for her to be seated before taking his own place across from her. It was fascinating to her how he remained steadfast in his chivalry and unwavering in his gentlemanly conduct. Except...when he took her to bed.

Her heart skipped a beat, and he looked up from his plate, a smile playing across his lips. "What did you do today?" He asked as the servants began to place food on the table.

Darcy told him briefly about her day while he watched her with those fascinating eyes. He rested his elbows on the table and leaned forward as he listened as if she were telling him an interesting story when all of it was in fact boring. He also looked at her that way, in the way that always made a blush creep across her face.

"And you? What else did you do?" She asked.

His gaze left hers for the first time since they sat down and he glanced at the window before picking up his cutlery as he spoke. "I was busy reading," he said. "Looking if I could find something to help him heal."

Darcy noticed that he seemed concerned for the man or was it something else? He didn't even know the man.

"You found nothing?" She wondered.

"So far," he replied.

It also just dawned on her that he brought the man here. Did he trust him? This was his hiding place and she knew he was very careful with what people he let in.

"You are concerned for him," Darcy pointed.

Ephraim's eyes widened slightly, and then he looked from side to side before looking down at his plate again. "I don't know him."

Darcy made the observation quietly and said no more about it, and moved on to the other subject she wanted to talk about. Now, it was her turn to look at her plate and nervously play with the food using the fork. "I told the crew about us," she began.

She could tell he looked up at her. "What did you say?" He asked.

"That I saw you and that I... like you," she looked up to meet his gaze. Those phantom eyes bore into hers.

"What else?"

She tried to keep eye contact. "And that you like me too..."

He narrowed his eyes. "Is that a question?"

"No..."

He frowned. "You say that as a question too."

She blinked, confused. "I mean... would you marry me?" She blurted. "I have been touched, poked, and..." humiliated.

Ephraim felt his hold on his cutlery tighten. What did she think? That he was just bedding her and wanted to keep her as a mistress? Did she ask if he would want to marry her? Hell, he even hoped to mate with her.

Speaking of mating, he calmed down, remembering what she had been through. He knew it was that side of her talking, and she needed a lot of reassurance. He watched her face as she looked down again, her hands trembling slightly because what she said hurt and angered her as well. And being a dragon, he could truly feel his breedmate's pain if he paid enough attention.

He could feel it now, the feeling of wanting to dissociate from her body and feeling dirty. It made him tremble with anger. He wanted to hurt those bastards all over again, and he would find anyone who ever sold a human and punish them.

Ephraim took a deep breath, releasing his grip on the cutlery, and reached across the table, gently taking Darcy's trembling hand in his. "Darcy," he said softly, his voice laced with sincerity and love. "I would be honored to marry you. To take you as my wife and become your husband would be my greatest joy."

She looked at him, eyes wet, lips trembling, before pressing them into a thin line.

Darcy felt suddenly stupid for what she said. What was she thinking? "I am sorry," she whispered, embarrassed.

The smile faded from his face. He thought she was denying him.

"No. I meant I was sorry for what I said earlier. I didn't mean what you said...about marriage...I ..." God, she was a mess. "I mean, it makes me happy to know."

"What makes you happy?" He asked.

The thought that he wanted to marry her. The thought of being his wife and him being her husband. "You," she breathed.

His jaw clenched, his fingers slightly tightening around her hand. She knew it wasn't because he was displeased. It was something else. A familiar look that always gave her butterflies.

"You please me," he said, his voice lowering and lingering around her.

The air around them thickened, and the tension became palpable as she lost herself in his gaze.

Slowly, he released her hand. "You should finish eating," he said.

They both continued finishing their meal, and as the servants cleared away the last of their dinner plates, Ephraim stood and offered Darcy his hand. "Join me in the drawing room for some wine," he said, his voice soft and inviting.

Although they had made love three times by now, she still felt like she was being courted, and the excitement was also still the same. She placed her hand in his, and he led the way.

The drawing room was warm, with a hearth and comfortable sofas. Darcy and Ephraim sat side by side as they were served wine. The fine food and drinks were still new to her, and she enjoyed them as much as she could.

Ephraim poured them each a glass of wine, the rich, red liquid shimmering in the firelight. They sipped in comfortable silence for a moment, the warmth of the fire and the closeness of their bodies amplifying the tension between them. Darcy could feel her heart racing, her breath catching in her throat as Ephraim's hand came to rest on her thigh. Would tonight be the fourth time?

"Do you like it?" He asked, as the rain continued to pour outside.

What? The touch or the wine?

"Yes. Very much," she replied, lifting the wine glass to her lips. She could see him looking at her from the corner of her eye as she took a sip.

She turned to him. "And you? You don't like it?"

He smiled gently, his hand reaching over to the table beside him and putting his cup away without tearing his gaze away from her. His eyes flickered with an intensity that sent a shiver down her spine.

"I find that I'm in search of something far more intoxicating," he murmured, his gaze lingering on her lips, communicating a desire that left her breathless.

Slowly, Ephraim leaned in, his breath a warm, tantalizing caress against her cheek as he whispered, "Your kiss."