Page 69 of The Temptation of Roan Island

There’s comfort in the domestic moves we make. We could be this couple so easily. But where would it take us? I can see our path split. One way leads to a flash of heat that dies too quickly, leaving behind ruin, heartbreak, and the destruction of our friendship. Maybe the destruction of Shemaiah’s promise to care for Toby, a risk I’m scared to take, even though he’s assured me he’ll honor his promise.

The other path leads to something even more terrifying. Hope.

Shemiah pours a glass of water from a pitcher at the table and brings it over to me.

“Thank you.” My hand brushes his as I take the glass, and I’m thankful I’m still wearing my gloves. Even with them, I’m too sensitive to his touch.

“Would you like to rest?” Shemaiah sits down in a seat by the window.

“I am tired,” I admit, removing my gloves. “But I’m not sure I can sleep.”

I join him in the sitting area, situating myself in the chair next to his. He takes out his pocket watch and glances at the time before tucking it away again. I stare at the window but see nothing, unable to focus my thoughts.

“Is there anyone you’d like to see while we’re in New Caldon?” he finally asks.

“Why would there be?”

“You said you lived there. I assume you had friends?” There’s a light teasing to his voice, but it’s also clear he’s fishing for more information about my past.

“You’re the first real friend I’ve had in a long time,” I answer quietly. There were a few servants I considered friends when I worked for the Ressmussens, but they all turned away when I found myself pregnant and in need.

Shemaiah’s quiet for a while. The sound of someone laughing carries through the thin walls. Out the window, the pasture below us paints a quilted tapestry.

“Pippa?” He cuts the silence with my name. His head hangs just enough for his hair to fall in his face. His elbows rest on his knees, hands clasped so tight they’re turning white.

“Hmm?” I tilt my head, studying him.

His leg bounces nervously in a way that’s entirely unfamiliar. “What if we were something more than friends?” He sits up straight and looks at me, dark eyes penetrating. “What if this wasn’t all pretend?”

Unable to hold his intense gaze, I look everywhere but at him. Heart racing, I try to order my thoughts and determine a response. This is what I wanted last night, and some part of me still wants to jump headfirst into something real with him. To experience everything I can while I can. But my fears keep me frozen, shocked that he’s even asking the question.

“I’m not offering to bite you on the Solstice,” he clarifies. “Just to…” His throat bobs on a swallow, and he shakes his head, beautiful hair swaying with the movement. “Never mind. It’s probably a bad idea.” He drops his head again, hiding behind the curtain of his hair.

I place a hand on his knee to get his attention, but pull away when he looks up. “Can I ask you… why won’t you consider biting me?”

“Pippa, I don’t⁠—”

“No, let me finish. I’m not asking you to love me. I’m just asking why it’s such an impossibility.” The moisture in my eyes surprises me.

“I can’t watch someone I care about die like that again.” There’s steel in his voice, all the nervousness from a moment ago gone.

“I’m dying anyway,” I whisper.

He looks up, eyes meeting mine at last. What I see there is so raw it would make my knees buckle if I wasn’t already sitting down. “You may be dying, but to die from a Solstice bite is torture. I can’t—” He closes his eyes. “I can’t watch you suffer like that.”

I place my hand on his knee. “Shemaiah, why did you first invite me to Roan Island?”

He sighs and looks up at the ceiling. “To be bitten.” He huffs and rolls his head to look at me. “But, Pippa, that was—” He swallows thickly.

Shemaiah doesn’t love me—he doesn’t believe he can love or that someone else would choose to love him in return—but he cares about me. I can see it in every little shift of his expression right now.

I can also see that even if he grew to love me, he would never trust his feelings enough to believe I’d survive a Solstice bite. He’d never risk it.

So whatever we have, it’ll only be temporary. There’s no happy ending for us here.

Knowing that, is it worth starting something?

Shemaiah gets down on his knees in front of my chair and takes my hands. “Please, little flower, let me have you for just a little while. No promises. Just… pleasure. Just you and me, no longer fighting this attraction.” His thumb rubs along my bare wrist. “Tell me you feel it.”