Sunlight streamed through the french windows of the breakfast room, turning everything to gold. Evelyn sat at the elegant table, watching steam rise from her coffee cup as she replayed the previous night's events in her mind. The storm had passed, leaving the gardens fresh and gleaming, but the memory of Ben's kiss in the rain lingered like a fever dream.
Mrs. Hughes moved quietly around the room, setting out fresh croissants and fruit with practiced efficiency. The housekeeper had given Evelyn a knowing look when she'd emerged from her suite that morning, still wearing the silk robe from last night's encounter. But if the older woman had witnessed anything in the garden, she kept her observations to herself.
"Mr. Carter usually takes breakfast in his study," Mrs. Hughes mentioned casually, arranging flowers in a crystal vase. "But this morning he asked to have it served here."
Before Evelyn could process that information, Ben's presence filled the doorway. He wore a charcoal suit that emphasized his powerful build, but it was the intensity in his storm-grey eyes that caught and held her attention. Their gazes locked across the sun-drenched room, electricity crackling in the space between them.
"Good morning, Mrs. Carter." His voice carried that rough edge that made her skin tingle. He moved to the table with fluid grace, taking the seat beside her rather than at the head of the table where tradition dictated. "I trust you slept well after our... midnight walk?"
Heat bloomed in her cheeks at the memory. "Eventually," she admitted, watching as he poured coffee into her nearly empty cup, his fingers brushing hers deliberately. "Though I had interesting dreams."
"About dancing in the rain with devils?" The corner of his mouth lifted in that dangerous half-smile that made her heart race.
"Among other things." She held his gaze, refusing to back down from the challenge in his eyes. "You seem well-rested yourself, considering the circumstances."
Ben's hand found her knee under the table, his touch burning through the silk of her robe. "I had plenty to think about while I lay awake." His thumb traced small circles on her skin. "Like how beautiful you looked in the moonlight, with rain in your hair and courage in your eyes."
Mrs. Hughes chose that moment to quietly excuse herself, closing the door behind her with practiced discretion. The instant they were alone, the atmosphere shifted from charged to explosive.
"Ben..." Evelyn began, but he was already moving, pulling her from her chair into his lap with effortless strength.
"I've been thinking about this all night," he murmured, one hand tangling in her honey-blonde hair while the other settled possessively on her hip. "About how you didn't run when you saw my scars. About how you kissed them like they were beautiful instead of ugly."
"They are beautiful," she whispered, tracing the line of his jaw. "They're proof of your strength, your survival. Every mark tells a story of how you became the man you are."
His eyes darkened to the color of storm clouds. "And what kind of man is that, Evelyn? A man who fought his way up from nothing? A man who's done things that would make you run screaming if you knew the whole truth?"
Instead of answering, she kissed him. Unlike last night's passionate clash, this was soft, deliberate – a declaration of trust and acceptance that made him groan against her lips. His arms tightened around her, pulling her closer until she could feel his heart thundering against her palm.
When they finally parted, both breathing heavily, Ben rested his forehead against hers. "You're making it very difficult to maintain our careful arrangement," he murmured, his voice rough with emotion.
"Maybe I don't want careful anymore." Evelyn's fingers played with the hair at the nape of his neck. "Maybe I want real."
He pulled back slightly, studying her face with an intensity that saw straight through to her soul. "Real is dangerous, especially with me. Real means no more masks, no more hiding behind social expectations. Real means facing all my demons, not just the ones I showed you last night."
"I'm not afraid of your demons." She met his gaze steadily. "I'm more afraid of going back to being the forgotten daughter, living half a life in someone else's shadow. At least your darkness is honest."
Something shifted in his expression – a softening around his eyes, a vulnerability he rarely showed. "You could never be forgotten again," he said softly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Not when you've carved yourself so deeply under my skin."
The tenderness in his touch contrasted sharply with his dangerous reputation, reminding Evelyn that there was so much more to this man than the world knew. Every layer she peeled back revealed new complexities, new depths that made her want to discover more.
"Then let's rewrite our arrangement," she suggested, her heart racing at her own boldness. "No more adjoining suites with careful distances. No more pretending this is just a business deal. Let's make this real, whatever that means."
Ben's hand tightened on her hip. "You don't know what you're asking for," he warned, though his eyes burned with barely contained desire. "Real with me means belonging to each other completely. It means no turning back, no matter how dark things get. Are you sure that's what you want?"
Evelyn smiled, remembering the timid second daughter she'd been just days ago. That girl would have been terrified of this man and his intensity. But she wasn't that girl anymore. "I've never been more sure of anything."
His kiss was both claiming and surrender, a sealing of promises neither of them had expected to make. When they finally broke apart, sunlight had turned the breakfast room into a golden sanctuary, transforming their private moment into something almost sacred.
"We'll need to be careful in public," Ben said, his thumb tracing her lower lip. "The world needs to believe this was always real, not something that evolved from arrangement to truth."
"Let them believe what they want." Evelyn stood, pulling him up with her. "We know the truth – that sometimes the most powerful love stories start with business deals and midnight confessions in the rain."
He laughed then, a real laugh that transformed his harsh features into something breathtaking. "When did you become so wise, Mrs. Carter?"
"Around the same time I fell in love with the devil," she answered softly, watching joy and wonder chase across his face at her words.
Ben pulled her close, his lips brushing her ear. "Then the devil better make sure he deserves such faith." His voice held a promise that made her shiver. "Starting now."
As he led her from the breakfast room toward their future, Evelyn realized that some arrangements were meant to be broken. Sometimes the best love stories grew from carefully constructed deals, blooming in the spaces between midnight and morning, between masks and truths, between business and pleasure.
And sometimes, just sometimes, the devil turned out to be exactly the angel you needed.