When Will We Return?

Amara Cross POV

“You look… stunning.”

Dorian whispered near my ear, his warm breath brushing against my skin, sending a violent shiver through my body like electricity.

It seemed he noticed me trembling, for he pulled me slightly closer. I rested against his firm chest, trying to regain my balance on these high heels.

A blush colored my cheeks a deep crimson. All eyes in the hall still watched us curiously. Yet, despite everything, I couldn’t deny the pleasure of it; his closeness gave me a sense of safety I never knew existed. His embrace felt like the only refuge amidst the chaos.

“All these stares… they make me nervous.” I whispered softly, lifting my eyes to him, clinging to his gaze through the mask. His eyes met mine for a moment, then he gently held my hand, as if his hand had been made to fit perfectly with mine.

“Alright…” He spoke in that confident, husky voice.

“Come, let’s go up to the yacht’s deck… the fresh air might help ease your tension.”

I nodded silently, leaving my hand in his warm grip. He guided me through the guests, who had returned to their chatter, and we climbed the inner staircase. The sounds gradually faded, lights dimmed, and a cool sea breeze brushed our faces on the upper deck.

The sky stretched wide above us, studded with stars like scattered diamonds, and the sea air was crisp, washing away the fatigue of dancing. He stood beside me, not letting go of my hand, placing me near the railing where the distant city lights shimmered like mirages above the dark water.

I breathed in deeply, watching the silver horizon. “The moon… it feels so close tonight, and it looks beautiful, more elegant in its light.”

A moment of silence passed, then his calm voice spoke beside me: “You’re right… the moon does look beautiful and enchanting.”

I slowly turned to see that dreamy look in his eyes, but found them fixed on me instead of the sky.

My cheeks burned uncontrollably. I averted my gaze to the sea and took a small step back, but suddenly… a sharp pain shot through my foot. My features twisted, and I gasped lightly, resting my hand on the metal railing.

“What’s wrong?” He asked instantly, grasping my hand in his.

I tried to force a faint smile to hide my embarrassment, but the pain in my foot was stronger. Without waiting for my reply, Dorian knelt on one knee before me. With careful concern, he reached out and gently removed my shoe, as if afraid of breaking a piece of glass.

I gasped shyly and tried to pull my foot back, but he continued inspecting my heel in silence.

“A swollen bruise…” He muttered softly.

A small bump was forming on my heel. He sighed quietly, then stood, placing his black jacket over my shoulders with care. A sudden warmth enveloped me, and his scent filled my lungs.

“Sit here, I’ll be right back.” He said and disappeared with steady steps.

I wrapped the jacket tightly around me, lost in the darkness of the sea, when another man approached—tall, elegant, with eyes carrying a strange boldness.

“Good evening, miss.” He lifted his eyes to mine and smiled.

“I saw you dancing earlier… you were truly enchanting.”

I lowered my gaze, embarrassed. He continued lightly, “And it seems I got lost in you among the crowd… I’m Jan.”

I hesitated briefly, then whispered, “Amara Cross.”

His smile widened. “A pleasure to meet you, Miss Amara… a beautiful name for its owner.” He bowed politely and stepped aside, just as Dorian returned carrying a small box and ointment.

He knelt before me again, lifting the edge of my dress slightly to reach the sore spot.

“Please, Mr. Dorian… it’s not proper for me to extend my foot. I’ll apply the ointment myself.”

I held his hand awkwardly, but he gently moved it aside with steady calm.

“You’re very stubborn, Amara… and I hate stubbornness.”

I fell silent in embarrassment, feeling his fingers brush my leg softly, sending a thrill through me.

“It might sting a little…”

He applied the ointment. I winced and pressed the edges of the seat with force. He carefully wiped around the wound with cotton, then placed the bandage with a tenderness I wasn’t used to. He replaced my shoe with care, straightened, and slowly removed his mask.

He stood tall before me, eyes locked on mine. “You really are… something, Amara.”

He paused, then continued in a tone that shook me to my core: “Your actions drive me crazy… and they might just succeed.”

My breath quickened, and I turned my face toward the waves, trying to escape the pull of his gaze. The jacket still wrapped around me like a warm embrace.

We returned to the yacht’s interior, where the lights dimmed and the music softened. Dorian seated me at a side table and asked in his deep voice, watching the passersby:

“Would you like something?”

“I just… want to catch my breath.” I nodded, smiling faintly. “This party feels like a movie… but I don’t know if I’m the heroine or just a spectator.”

“You’re not a bystander, Amara.” He said without hesitation, adding a glance that pierced me: “All eyes were on you, including mine.”

I blushed, feeling a shiver across my skin. The waiter placed plates of herb-seasoned meat before us. Dorian waved him away.

“Eat something. I don’t want you to collapse before the party ends.”

I hesitated with the fork, smiling shyly. “You seem confident I’ll stay until the end.”

He replied in a calm, challenging tone: “Because I invited you… and I never make mistakes in my choices, Amara.”

I lifted my eyes to him, then to my plate, sipping my garnet-colored juice. “This is strange… the place is so fancy, I didn’t expect the party to be on such a beautiful yacht.”

“Most guests love privacy… and the sea gives it to them.” Dorian said, watching the reflections of the lights on the window glass.

I looked at him playfully. “You could have at least told me in advance that you’d invite me… I would’ve prepared differently.”

He raised an eyebrow lightly, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. “And if I had, would you have stopped asking a thousand questions?”

I laughed, tapping the table lightly. “As if you don’t know me! Of course, I would’ve asked: how? when? why me? what should I wear? and when will we return?”

He shook his head as if imagining my chatter, and we sank into a moment of silent understanding, only broken by the clinking of glasses around us.