Reborn: The Duke's Obsession -
Chapter 96 - Ninety Six
Chapter 96: Chapter Ninety Six
Delia looked at him, at the raw pain and vulnerability in his eyes. The wind whipped his hair across his face, and the approaching storm seemed to mirror the turmoil inside him.
"You really don’t know why I came all this way to find you?" he asked, his voice a low, intense murmur that was almost lost in the sound of the crashing waves.
"I don’t know," she replied honestly, her own voice barely a whisper. "How would I know?"
"I need you to know," Eric said, his gaze never leaving hers. He reached for her hand and intertwined their fingers, his grip warm and firm. He looked down at their joined hands, then back up at her face. "I missed you, Delia. That’s the only reason. The few hours without you... they were unbearable."
He lifted her hand and turned it over, his thumb tracing the new gold wedding band that rested on her finger. "I love you," he said, the words simple, direct, and devastatingly sincere. "A lot." He met her eyes, and she saw nothing but pure, unadulterated truth in them. He faced her fully, still holding her hand, his other hand now playing with her wedding ring, twisting it gently around her finger.
"I love you so much, Delia," he repeated, his voice thick with an emotion she had never heard from anyone before. He then pulled her into a hug, a tight, desperate embrace that told her more than his words ever could. He held her there, on the windy, darkening beach, and for the first time in a very long time, Delia didn’t feel the need to run away.
The sun had long since set, and the only light in Delia’s small, rented room on the island came from a single flickering candle. She sat on the edge of the simple bed, staring at nothing, her mind replaying the moment on the beach over and over again.
"I love you. A lot." A memory of his voice, earnest and deep, flashed in her mind. "I love you so much, Delia." Then came another memory, the feeling of his strong arms wrapped around her, holding her as if she were the most precious thing in the world.
Her cheeks, which had been cool just moments before, were now burning hot. She stood up and went to the small, cracked mirror that hung on the wall. A woman with flushed cheeks and wide, confused blue eyes stared back at her.
"Why am I suddenly feeling so warm?" she said to her reflection, her voice a flustered whisper. She went to the washbasin, filled her hands with cool water, and splashed it on her face, trying to douse the strange, unfamiliar fire that was burning inside her.
Just then, a sharp knock came on her door.
Her heart leaped into her throat. She smoothed her hair, took a deep breath, and opened the door. It was Eric. He stood there, his own travel trunk at his feet, a slightly sheepish but determined smile on his face.
"I will have to stay with you for now, until we can get back home," he said, his smile widening.
"Why?" Delia asked, her mind struggling to keep up.
"A terrible oversight on my part," he replied, his tone full of a regret that she knew was completely fake. "I was in such a hurry to find you that I forgot to book my own room when I arrived. I just went to the innkeeper, and it seems there is no vacancy. Not a single room left on the entire island." He leaned against the doorframe, a helpless look on his face.
"Or... would you prefer your new husband to stay outside all night, in the rain?"
Delia sighed. It was the most obvious, poorly constructed lie she had ever heard. But as she looked at him, at the hopeful, boyish glint in his eyes, she found she didn’t have the heart to call him on it. She opened the door wide for him to enter.
He came in, dragging his trunk behind him. As he tried to settle into the small, rustic room, Delia poured herself a glass of water, her hand not quite steady. After he was done, his gaze fell upon the bathing area. It was a small, curtained-off alcove across the room, but it was designed in such a way that someone in the main room could easily see the silhouette of the person who was bathing behind the thin curtain. He smiled.
"Do you want to bathe first?" he asked, a teasing light in his eyes.
Delia, following his gaze, noticed the revealing architecture of the bathing area for the first time. Her cheeks flushed again. She shook her head. "No."
He went and sat on the edge of her small bed, making it seem even smaller. "Then should I bathe first?" he asked, his grin widening.
"Not that either," she replied quickly.
Eric looked at her, his expression one of pure, innocent confusion. "Then what do you want to do, Delia?"
She looked at him, then at the bathing screen, then back at him. An idea, bold and a little reckless, formed in her mind. She went to the bed and, before she could lose her nerve, she placed her hands on his chest and pushed him so that he was lying down on the bed.
Eric’s eyes widened in complete surprise. "Delia," he said, his voice a little breathless.
She ignored him. She straddled his hips, her knees on either side of him, and leaned over him. "I will bathe first," she declared, her voice firm. "So you will just stay on this bed. Exactly like this."
She reached for the thick woolen blanket at the foot of the bed and, with a flick of her wrists, draped it over his eyes. "Stay right there," she commanded. "And don’t you dare move."
She began to get up from his body, but as she did, she saw him try to push the blanket aside just a little, to peek.
"Don’t," she warned, her voice a low, dangerous whisper that was also full of a strange playfulness. "If you even try to look, I will kill you."
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