Secretly Mine
Chapter 186: Peaceful

Chapter 186: Peaceful

The bright moonlight filtered through the large window, landing directly on a white chaise lounge that looked like it belonged in a French palace.

Is this where I’m going to sit?

My fingers ran across the soft fabric of the chaise lounge, feeling its intricate embroidery.

"Do you like it? Ever since you agreed yesterday, I haven’t stopped thinking about how to make it comfortable for you to pose. I hope this is okay."

Lucas walked in with a tray of fresh fruits, chocolates, and other small refreshments. He placed the tray on the small table beside the chaise lounge, then turned to look at me.

"Yes, this is perfect. Thank you so much. Just tell me what to do, I’ve never done this sort of thing before," I said, sitting down.

"No problem at all. I’ve also never painted portraits before, so this will be a new experience for both of us," he smiled and held up a hairbrush. "Do you mind if I brush out your curls a little? They’re lovely, I just want to match the painting a little better."

I nodded, "Yes, go ahead."

Lucas reached out and gently lifted a lock of my hair, brushing it as softly as he possibly could.

"Let me know if I hurt you or need to stop."

His voice was hoarse and barely audible, causing my cheeks to heat up. This wasn’t the first time someone brushed my hair, as the maids had done it when I was younger.

The gentleness behind each brush stroke sent a wave of warmth throughout my body. We were both silent the entire time, and only the sounds of the brushing could be heard.

It took Lucas almost fifteen minutes to get through all of my hair due to its length.

"There," he finally finished and took a step back to look at the final result. "You look breathtaking."

His smiling face glowed softly from the moonlight behind me. His usually golden hair appeared silver, making him look even more angelic than he normally appeared to be. He was wearing a black loose V-neck shirt, which allowed me to see just the faintest amount of his muscular chest.

Before I knew it, I was blushing wildly. I didn’t want to admit it, but I wanted to feel more of his gentle touch.

"Shall we begin?" he asked.

His eyes never left me. He looked like he himself was being mesmerized, and that’s when I saw it. The familiar look I’ve seen before. The only thing different was that it wasn’t a pair of haunting, deep blue eyes that were looking at me.

It was a look that I was familiar with, one that was full of different emotions. Interest, warmth, joy, and desire.

I closed my eyes and opened them again, but when I went back to look at him, his expression changed to his usual, gentle smile.

After one last glance, he disappeared behind the large canvas.

"Just sit back and relax. Today, I’ll only be doing basic outlines. Just let me know if you get bored or need a break," he said from behind the canvas.

"Okay!"

-

The bright moonlight continued to filter through the tall windowpanes, casting shifting patterns across the studio floor.

Lucas sat behind the canvas now, mostly hidden save for the occasional movement of his charcoal stick. The sound it made—slow, careful strokes—was oddly soothing. Still, my heart refused to settle.

I adjusted myself slightly on the chaise, trying to find a position that felt natural. Relaxed. But I couldn’t. Not really. Not when I still felt the memory of his fingers in my hair. Not when the way he’d looked at me was still seared behind my eyes.

That look...

So warm. So open. So full of something unspoken.

It made my stomach tighten.

This wasn’t supposed to be complicated. Lucas was kind. Sweet. Attentive. He watched me with eyes that never demanded anything. And yet...

My thoughts betrayed me, circling back again to another man’s eyes—darker, sharper, haunted by secrets. Christian.

Even when he hurt me, part of me still clung to him. I hated that. I hated that I still wondered what he would think if he saw me here, wrapped in moonlight, being painted like a muse.

I wonder what he’s doing right now.

Does he still think of me?

I closed my eyes, trying to remember the look on his face when I saw him in the hallway. The look he had was unreadable, which only made me want to know his thoughts even more.

"Leslie?" asked Lucas, bringing me back to reality. "How are you holding up?"

"Hmm? Oh, I’m doing good. Thank you," I replied, readjusting myself on the seat.

I could hear Lucas take a few steps away from the canvas. The next moment, he appeared in front of me with a small throw blanket.

"Here, it’s getting slightly chilly. I don’t want you to be cold." He placed the blanket over my lap. His hand brushed against me slightly, but he didn’t pull away.

Instead, he bent down so that he was at eye level with me.

"I’m not boring you, am I?" I asked suddenly, needing to break the silence before it swallowed me whole.

He chuckled—a soft, low sound that made my heart stutter.

"Not even a little," he said. "This might be one of the most peaceful nights I’ve had in a long time."

"Peaceful?" I asked, unsure why the word struck me.

He paused for a brief moment, then added, "With you, it always feels peaceful."

I didn’t know what to say to that. I wasn’t sure I deserved such a kind sentiment when my own heart felt like a battlefield.

He flashed me a gentle smile before standing up and going back to the painting. I glanced down at the blanket on my lap. I could already feel its warmth on my lap.

The silence returned for a while, but every time Lucas peeked over the canvas to look at me, he would flash me a bright smile.

"Lucas," I said.

"Hmm?"

"Why haven’t you ever signed your paintings with your real name?"

He was quiet for a long time before answering.

"Because painting is the only thing I have that’s mine. The one thing untouched by titles, by family obligations, or expectations. Just something I can do for the sake of doing it."

I nodded slowly. I understood more than I wanted to admit.

"You think it’s silly?" he asked, as if sensing my silence.

"No," I said quickly. "I think it’s beautiful."