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Once in the air, every time Lark’s gaze went wide, he leaned forward. He needed to know why. So he could buy, capture, or create whatever sight had pleased her.
"It's beautiful," she breathed.
Omar looked out the window. The crystal blue in the Córdovian skyline was before them. He flew a lot, but he rarely took the time to take in the scenery when up high.
The golden spires glistened in the setting sun. There was ancient architecture set between modern skyscrapers. Above, stars lit up the night sky as though a parent had switched off a child’s overhead light and turned on their nightlight. They twinkled in her eyes. Omar made a mental note to travel by air at night as often as possible if it pleased her.
Thirty minutes later, Lark’s gaze went even wider with awe and delight. Omar had scarcely taken his gaze off her for the duration of the copter ride. He saw a familiar setting in her pale eyes. A medieval castle with domes instead of spires reflected back from Lark’s depths.
“Where are we?” Lark asked.
"Home," he said.
Once the bird touched down on the roof of the Navarre Castle, Omar sprang from his seat. He brushed Lark’s hands away from the release catch and performed the honor himself. If she was going to get away, it would be directly into his arms.
"This is your castle?" she asked once she was free and caught in his arms.
"Yes," he said. “Well, it was. I gave it up. My sister runs the place. I still have the title for now, but she has all the power."
"You just handed over your power to a woman?”
"Running a marquisate, the politics, it's not my passion. And my sister is better at it than I am."
"It's pretty big of you to admit that."
"It's the truth. A strong woman doesn't detract from my masculinity. If that was the case, then I would not be here with you."
“You brought me here to meet your sister?"
"No. I brought you here to show you my secrets. You showed me your magic tricks, I'll show you mine."
He gave her a tug. She came easily, seeming content to let him take the lead while she followed at his side.
"You know all castles were built to defend and protect the people behind the walls."
Omar slipped an arm around her. A whoop whoop sound bounced off the walls. He knew the helicopter was parked above. It wouldn’t leave until they were ready to depart. So, it could only be his heart pounding as it soared with Lark in his arms.
"See those stone circles, they are basically an obstacle course. They’re meant to slow the invaders down, but the patient man will make his way through."
He linked their fingers together. His fingertips tingled. A shiver of pleasure rolled down his spine, like a cool breeze on a summer’s night.
"Even the narrow stairwell was part of the defenses to avoid an attacker …”
He pressed her against the wall. It was after hours, and most of the servants would be in their own quarters. The hall was empty, but the castle was not. Still, he no longer cared who saw them or what they might think. But he did not care for prying eyes.
"Inhabitants know the layout, which is the greatest advantage if an intruder breaches a wall."
Omar pressed her hand to the secret passage. The door opened. Now, he was the one with the trick up his sleeve.
“If all else fails, there’s always a secret passageway."
A trap door opened, and he secreted her inside.
Chapter Fourteen
No one had ever made a candlelight dinner for her. Not only were they dining by flickering flame, but he’d found out her favorite foods and displayed them on what looked like a magic carpet, only it wasn’t floating.
They sat on the ground on lush carpets. On serving dishes was beef bourguignon with a buttery wine sauce, the fluffiest potatoes Lark had ever sunk a fork into, and a leek vinaigrette that melted on her tongue. For dessert, she was treated to a slice of raspberry clafoutis. The traditional dish was always made with cherries, but her dad had always swapped out the pitted sweets for raspberries.
