Sheer drapes weave the sunlight through the room, where it leaves a warm golden glow on everything.

The sound in the background was waves, and for once,  we were far from that maddening life of ours.

It was warm, peaceful, and utterly different from the tension gripping our days.

I burrowed deeper into the couch's plush cushions, stretching out my legs in a comfortable gesture. For one of those rare moments, everything just was normal.

My fingers brushed against the spine of the book in my lap, Lessons in Sin by Pam Godwin, smutty escape from reality, indulgence I let myself into far too often.

Here, though, with Lucien nearby, guilt was never attached to it.

I turned to another page, already losing myself in the forbidden student-teacher romance.

The plot was sinful, tension undeniable, and raw attraction between characters—made me feel a little flushed in spots.

Not one for these kinds of books usually, something about the tantalizing taboo and all that had pulled me in.

Probably because it had reflected, in some small way, the dangerous allure of my own life.

The forbidden thrill.

"Good book?" Lucien's voice floated through the silence.

I looked up to see the wicked glint in his eyes as he stretched back in his chair, careless arms over the back of it.

He had been studying me for some minutes, likely trying to work out why I was so absorbed.

"Yeah, it's good," I said, hard-pressed to keep the amused smirk that tugged at my lips from his eyes.

"What's it about?" he asked, getting up and walking toward me with that effortless swagger. He sat beside me, close enough that his knee brushed mine.

I hesitated for a second.

Oh, Lucien, if only you knew.

My cheeks pricked at the thought of explaining the book's premise to him. But I was not going to retreat. "It's a romance novel," I said, trying to choose my words carefully.

He raised his eyebrow, leaning closer. "A romance novel?" There was that teasing edge to his voice. "You've been reading it all morning like you're planning a mission. What kind of romance has you so captivated?"

I swallowed, already knowing where this was heading. "I's different," I said, knowing I wouldn't get away with being vague.

He'd pull it out of me eventually, so why fight it?

He grins, his eyes going bright with amusement. "How different are we talking? Like star-crossed lovers? Mafia princess falls for the wrong guy? That sort of thing?"

I shook my head, trying not to laugh. "No. Not that kind." I shifted in my seat, feeling the tension rise. Lucien's eyes gleamed with mischief as if he knew there was more to it.

"Come on, now you have to tell me." His voice lowered into a playful challenge. "What's got you so hooked?"

I exhaled, finally giving in. "It's about this girl. who falls for her teacher."

To complete silence fell the space. Lucien's eyebrows shot up. Then, his face took a turn devilish. "Her teacher? As in, a real teacher?" He leaned forward, clearly entertained.

"Yes." My roll of the eye couldn't suppress my lips from curving into a slight smile against my will. "It's forbidden, okay? She's a student and he is a priest. It's. complicated."

Lucien smiled, his edifices around his own amusement crumbling. "A priest?" He laughed low in his throat and shook his head. "Reading about some girl who's going to seduce some priest? And you have sat there for an hour or two for this?"

I blushed as he teased me. "I'm not stuck in it. It's a good book," I defended, though even I couldn't help laughing at how ridiculous it must have sounded. "There's more to it than just that."

"Oh, of course there is," he said, his voice full of mocking understanding. "It's probably about, what, forbidden love? Deep emotional connection? Maybe some holy penance thrown in for good measure?"

"Something like that," I said, grin widening. He was having way too much fun with this.

Lucien's gaze softened, though the teasing didn't disappear completely. "So, is it making you think about anything?"

There were guards outside the villa, watching us continuously from the windows.

So yeah, the show was still on.

His voice dropped, his hand sneaking up onto my thigh, a light caress that seemed to ripple heat through me.

I gave him a pointed stare. "You're ridiculous."

He leaned in closer still, his breath warm against the curve of my neck as he murmured, "You know, if you're into forbidden things, you didn't have to look far, amore mio."

This is the second time he called me that.

Although to him these words are trite and cardboardlike, they are a joyous accident happening to me.

My heart began to beat faster at his proximity; his mouth continue,  taking that teasing familiar turn into something dangerous.

He was altogether too good at this—that was making me feel like we two alone existed in the world.

"Lucien.," I cautioned, though my voice lacked edge. He knew exactly what he was doing, and it was working.

He leaned in, his lips brushing the shell of my ear. "Tell me more about this book. Maybe I'll start reading it."

I laughed, shoving him away lightly. "Please, you'd never get past the first chapter."

He pulled back, but his eyes still sparkled with some latent mischief. "I don't know," he said, "Sounds like something I'd be into." His thumb traced slow circles on my thigh, a silent challenge in his touch.

"You'd just use it as an excuse to make fun of me," I shot back, narrowing my eyes at him.

"I wouldn't dream of it," he said, his expression altogether too innocent to be credible. "I'm just surprised. You never struck me as the type who'd read. smut."

I snorted. "It's not smut."

"Oh?" He raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "Then what would we call it?"

"Romance," I replied fiercely, lifting my chin to defy him.

"Romance," he repeated, shaking his head with a chuckle. "Sure."

We sank into silence, and I settled back upon the cushions, feeling the warmth of him beside me.

And yet, beyond the teasing words, something in this felt intimate. The usual merely banter didn't live here.

We could be normal, like any two people, enjoying each other's company without some end of the world weighing on us.

I regarded him and, for a moment,  imagined what our lives would be if they were always like this.

Serene.

If we didn't have all the dangers, the betrayals, constant fight for power and survival.

But then reality crept back in, as it always did, reminding me that these moments were fleeting, fragile. And yet, they were all the more precious for it.

Lucien, who seemed to feel a change in my mood, gave my leg a reassuring squeeze. "I'm glad you're enjoying your book," he said softly, his voice losing its teasing edge.

I smiled, grateful for the reprieve. "I am. But don't get any ideas."

He grins, leaning back and stretching out his arms behind his head. "Too late."

I shook my head, though inside me, a warmth had settled in my chest.

These were the moments I held onto—the moments that made everything else worthwhile.

Lucien's grin doesn't flinch as he leans in further, his eyes glinting with that knowing look that always sets me on edge.

"You know," he began a playful lilt to his voice, "this whole priest-student thing isn't the first time I've caught you reading about older guys. Remember that Jonathan King book?"

I stopped in my tracks for a second, my heart making an involuntary lurch. Oh no.

I knew exactly what he was talking about, and the teasing glint in his eyes confirmed it.

Kingdom Duet. Of course, he remembered. Jonathan King, the alpha male protagonist, all older, dominant, and irresistibly in control—Lucien had found me reading Reign of A King once, and I hadn't heard the end of it since.

I glared at him, but it seemed to have little effect on him. "That was one book," I muttered, though my voice didn't come across as all that convincing. "Besides, it's fiction. It doesn't mean anything."

He let out a soft chuckle, and the rumble vibrated deep into his chest. "Fiction, sure. But you can't deny you have a type."

I raised an eyebrow, not going to let him get the upper hand of me. "And just exactly what's my type, Lucien?"

Lucien Beauchene is actually my type, him and only him. Jonny daddy and Father Magnus can wait in line.

His grin had spread across his face as he shrugged, completely unruffled by my challenge. "Older men. Powerful. Dominant." He leaned in again, his breath brushing across my ear once more. "Sound familiar?"

Sounds like precisely what I'm seeing sitting right in front of my eyes.

But he does not need to know that.

The heat crept up my neck, but I rolled my eyes, ignoring that little pricking sensation within me; I was dead set on not giving a hoot.

"Don't flatter yourself," I said, though a weak voice betrayed me.

He chuckled softly, his lips curving into that wicked smile that always made my heart race. "Oh, I'm not flattering myself, amore mio.I'm just stating the obvious."

I groaned inwardly, knowing that arguing with him would only feed the beast and make things worse.

Lucien loved nothing more than seeing me squirm, and he had an uncanny ability to push all the right buttons. And, damn it, he knew it too.

"You're ridiculous," I mumbled, shifting my attention back to the book in my lap, though it was impossible to concentrate with him this close.

"I'm just saying," he went on, clearly teasing, "you have a pattern. First Jonathan King, now a forbidden romance with a priest? What's next? A mafia boss?"

I couldn't resist it - his remark forced a little involuntary laugh from my lips. "I think I'm already saddled with one of those," I said, glancing toward him.

"Lucky you," he said smoothly, sparkling in the eyes, laughing.

I tried to pretend that he wasn't there, that it wasn't even sharing the same space with Lucien, but couldn't help myself. 

He had an unparalleled gift for making a moment light, even though I did not want it to.

He knew just how to make me crack a smile at an otherwise chaotic and stressful time. I kept it well hidden, however, at least from him.

"You can save your remarks for someone else, boss," I shot back playful,  pushing him away. "I'm trying to read."

He overacted with a heavy sigh and leaned back in his seat, stretching his arms again.

"Fine, fine. I'll let you get back to your priest. But just so you know," he added, his voice dropping into that familiar, dangerously seductive tone, "you don't need to read about older men when you've got one right here."

"I'll complain to Eleanor about your flirts. She won't let you in the bed starting that day." I said that to him.

His flirts are going to kill me, and I don't want to die yet. First, I want to be a mom.

And definitely, boy twins, so I can dress them matching until both of them get sick of it.

"She won't mind if it's you, Perle.", he winked and melted my insides. 

As simple as that is!

I groaned, my cheeks warming yet again as I threw a pillow at him, but was unable to hide the smile now. "You're impossible."

Lucien caught the pillow easily, then had the pleasure of smirking because he tossed it aside. "And yet, you love me anyway."

I didn't say anything, but my heart beat just a little faster as I turned back to my book.

***

The sun was hanging low in the sky, bathing the Bay of Teodoro in a golden glow.

Lucien and I walked along the shoreline, our fingers entwined like perfect lovers. Or at least, that's what we were supposed to appear like.

The lapping waves smothered out their melodious sound with their noise hitting the rocks; all I could think of was how absurd the entire charade had become.

"Look at this view," Lucien said, turning to me, his eyes reflecting the vibrant colors of the setting sun.

"It's beautiful," I said without much conviction.

I smiled, though. There was a heaviness in my chest, a quiet longing that I couldn't help; the pain is something very hard to forget. "It is," I said softly. "But I wish it were just me-no cameras, no expectations. Just. me."

He raised an eyebrow, half-smiling. "You mean you don't want to put on a show for Grandma Bianca's men?"

I laughed dryly and shook my head. "As if. I feel like I'm on display every minute. All this PDA, like we're in some cliché romance movie. It's exhausting."

We stepped out and stopped at a small wooden pier where fishermen were unloading the day's catch.

The salty breeze blew through my hair, and I was futilely trying to comb it down as it danced about my face. I tried for nothing.

Lucien chuckled next to me, pretty clearly entertained by my struggle.

"Okay, fine," he said, coming closer with a mischievous grin. "Let's give them a little show  before we do something about this situation."

Before I could say anything, his lips had claimed mine teasing and playful as he made sure it was over the top enough to get attention.

I played along by wrapping my arms around his neck,  deepening the kiss just enough to keep up appearances.

The feel of his body against mine was so familiar, yet I hated it; how real it could feel even when I knew it wasn't.

For a moment, the world faded away around us, and I almost forgot it was all a lie.

Lucien's hands moved slowly, deliberately, savoring the feel of me, every curve, every dip.

It was such a chaste touch that started a shiver on my spine, even when it was all for show, and I could not shake away the rush that came with it.

I let out a soft sigh against his lips, feeling the heat between us, the intensity of it all. His fingers grazed the small of my back, teasing the edge of control.

For a moment, I almost wanted it to be true. That this wasn't a game. Perhaps maybe, just maybe, this intimacy was something more.

But then I remembered—it wasn't.

"All right, Guinevere," I said, smiling back at her with a playful smirk as I pulled back. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves here. We still need to work on an escape plan."

If he was Lady Guinevere, then I was obviously King Arthur who had the care but certainly not the love, and Eleanor was Sir Lancelot, who had everything King Arthur ever wanted—his queen.

"Escape plan?" He echoed, grinning as if I just suggested robbing a bank. "Are we planning a heist now?"

"Something like that," I said, scanning about the grounds to make sure no one was within speaking distance. "I'm sick of pretending. I wish there was a day when I could just be anonymous, like one of these locals—live without a care in the world."

Lucien nodded. His face eased into a sympathetic smile. "What if we did that? Sneak off the estate, plunged into the water, and nobody'd ever even think of finding us."

I raised an eyebrow, interested. "You have a plan?"

"Maybe," he edged closer to me. "It's gorgeous here, but we can't let Grandma Bianca's goons call all the shots. What about those waterjets?"

My eyes lit up at the suggestion. "The ones that zip around the bay? Are you serious?"

"Absolutely. We'll make it look like we're just enjoying the water, and before they realize, we're gone," he said, that familiar mischievous grin spreading across his face.

I looked at him, feeling the spark of excitement rise. "And where do we go after that?"

He looked out across the horizon to the sea, where the sun fell beneath the wave. "Santorini is not too far from here. We can make a break if we time it right; we can slip away, have some real fun,  and then slip back before anyone misses us."

"Sounds dangerous," I ventured, frowning. The thrill of it was pulling me, though. "But also. exciting."

"Exactly," he said, drawing me in again. "We'll make it look like we're just enjoying the beach. A few more kisses, some laughs, and then—boom—we're off."

I couldn't help but smile, feeling the adrenaline kick in. "Alright, Lucien. I'm in. But we have to act naturally. We can't let them know we're planning this."

He mock-saluted. "Understood. We'll keep it casual."

We walked along the shore as our laughter was intertwined by the waves.

The tension between us started to dissolve as we joked and played the role of an in love couple-but on my min,  all that could be focused was thrills as we outlined the scheme of the break out.

Breaking free, even if it is just for a while, was intoxicating.

"It's getting lat. Wee should get back home," Lucien said, casting a glance at the darkening sky. "If we're going to get away with this, we have to time it just right."

I nodded, feeling my heart thumping inside my chest, excitement building up. "Alright, let me explain the plan: We will pretend we are heading out to the water to simply enjoy the day. I will keep them busy with my charm—"

"Charm? You?" Lucien teased, raising an eyebrow.

I rolled my eyes. "Very funny. Anyway, while I'm doing that,  you can get the waterjet. I'll keep an eye out for any of Nonna's men. If anything seems off, I'll give you a signal."

"Perfect." He squeezed my hand, the excitement palpable between us. "This is going to be epic."

Walking back to the estate, our conversation was playful and banter-is,  but rebellion pulsed through my veins as a result .

Freedom of just an hour or two could be enough for a person to have a flood of sensations.

I turned to look at Lucien, whose face had eased into a confident smile, and I knew that, in some way, we were now in this together.

This time, we weren't pretending.

This time, we were plotting something; it was real.

"Ready for this?" I asked him as we were approaching the estate, a sense of the weight of our plan settling onto my shoulders.

Lucien looked back at me, a grin tugging at his lips. "Ready as I'll ever be."

And as we stepped back into that world of expectation, obligation, and deceit, I should have felt like I was stepping over the threshold of something worse, but at the time, it seemed like I was about to step into something glorious.

This was the first time we were taking control of our lives-with each other,

For at least a day.