Alexandre pulled Lily into his arms. Her body was soft. Warm. Automatically, her delicate body snuggled up against his. He flashed her a quick grin, her face nestled against his chest. Moaning he closed his eyes to blot her out and fight the temptation.
He looked down at her. Her eyelids were tightly closed, the long lashes casting dark shadows on her cheeks. The snow-white skin seemed to glow in the moonlight. As if she were a magical being, not of this world.
Yet she seemed so much younger. When she slept so peacefully. A smile had lingered on his lips. He had got used to the feeling that he would fall asleep with her in his arms and wake up again with her in his arms. How quickly habits could change. The nightmares seemed to vanish.
Her hair was still damp from the bath. But she smelled so good. He buried his nose deeper in her hair. Sweet and refreshing, like a gentle spring breeze. Her scent had something soothing, something relaxing. It was airy, light and fresh. Like her. He was drawn to her scent. Finally got rid of that disgustingly sweet smell from that harlot at the club.
Alexandre took one of her brown strands between thumb and forefinger, wrapped it around his finger. Soft, like silk.
There was nothing wrong with it, if he enjoyed his life. If he had a little fun. After he got his revenge, life would go on. Maybe he could enjoy it, as well. Even if he didn't love her. He could still find a way to enjoy life with her and the boy. No one would blame him.
Slowly he brushed over the bridge of her nose with his finger, down to her lips. Full, soft lips. Always reminding him how sweet her kisses were. Clumsy, but lovely.
There were no arguments against it. She was his wife. Even after he achieved his goals, she would remain his wife. She would bear him an heir.
Alexandre bedded his head next to hers, put his chin on her head. He took more and more pleasure in this familiarity.
But he would only love one woman in his life.
Danielle.
For a moment he was catapulted into a nightmare, looking at a dead body on a muddy ground. "I'm sorry." He muttered.
But before that, what was she like? Always seeing those horrible pictures. Images that blocked everything else in his mind. He buried his face deeper in Lily's hair. She had blonde hair, bright as the sun. The night he first met her... Her expression was vivid and dazzling. Like summer. Her personality took up the whole room. Yeah, if Lily was like spring, she was his summer. Like a Intoxicated, he had asked for an opera glass and peeped over at her throughout the performance. She shone brilliantly bright in this tight dress. It was red, like her lips, red like sunset. Every curve was caressed by the velvety fabric. His mind had gone wild at the time after he had noticed the slit at the side, revealing honey-colored skin for a split second with each step she took, but then disappearing again. She was hot. Immediately set his heart on fire. Like all those times before.
Of course he was seeking her company. She was very formal, kept him at a distance. It was a cat-and-mouse game. Playing it too often already. With tons of ladies. But his heart didn't move once. He soon lost his interest.
It was the second time which caught his attention.