The jolt of shock that runs through his body caught him off guard. Stefan could feel the beat of his pulse pounding through his neck as it turns red.
Being skillful, tactful, calculating, and alert were a combination of qualities he acquired as a Navy SEAL and unfortunately no amount of training could have ever prepared him for what he just witnessed. When dealing with any situation only one very important key trait was required. Control. And Stefan just slipped.
To unexpectedly see his face featured on the cover of the British business magazine Square Mile, by far one of the most unsettling experiences he'd ever felt. Of course he recognized the issue he was interviewed for months ago, but he didn't expect to see a picture of himself in her lap. When he, in all intents and purposes, was that very same man dressed in disguise.
Would she recognize the similarities?
It was impossible.
His hair was darker and swept neatly in a hair style from the 60's era. His eyes were a different color thanks to the colored contacts. A beard slowly formed over his jaw and upper lip diminishing the size of his hard pressed lips. Square shaped nerdy glasses framed his eyes, the lenses slightly enhancing the size of the shape. His overall appearance changed so much when he walked into his kitchen two days ago, his cook who'd known him since a child, did a double take and nearly dropped the stack of plates she was carrying.
Composing himself with a nonchalant expression, he takes a deep breath, arches an eyebrow and nods at the magazine. "You looked like you found a long lost treasure." He observed choosing his words wisely aiming to hit a nerve and try to elicit a reaction from her. Stefan was dead set on seeking the hidden feelings inside the depths of his Camelia flower. Her walls were delicate yet at the same time impenetrable.
What was she thinking?
Although he did not show it, he was surprised when a deeper blush coated her cheeks. That reaction just confirmed his suspicions. She felt somethingâfor him, for Stefan. He covered his small smile with his fist. The star stuck, dreamy look passing over Camelia's eyes while viewing the magazine should have been enough confirmation but Stefan needed to make sure.
She remembered.
"Harldy." Exaggerating her reply with a roll of her eyes. She avoided his gaze. Trying to think of something to say. Stealing a glance at the magazine and looking back at him, he gives her a challenging stare that was not hard to miss. She tosses the issue back down on the table and shrugs, "That's Stefan Steel."
The way she said his name, with such confidence and recognition made him feel like he belonged to her.
"Yes, I can see that." He slung his arm on the back of the sofa casually. "It sounds to me like you know him." He stated matter-of-factly. Little known to Camelia, he was hoping she'd take the bait and fall into his trap, feeling it's best to press the issue while it was still fresh. Stefan was determined to know what she felt about the real him after all these years.
She made a sidelong glance back at the tables center where she threw the magazine, pursing her perfectly plump lips. He noticed her demeanor change, it was more guarded.
His dark angel was holding back.
She took a strand of her long hair and began intertwining it between her immaculately manicured red fingers. It was a nervous habit. Stefan internally smiled. He loved watching her squirm in discomfort. She was hiding some forbidden secret she didn't want him to knowing about. He could feel it.
"I was ten years old, he came to my birthday party once and I never saw him again." She answers quickly. Her eyes slanted to the left quickly, and blinked, avoiding his insistent gaze.
Lie.
"It's said he's one of the most sought after bachelors in the world." He said as cool as he could without seeming too cocky. "He's one lucky guy, must have girls throwing themselves left and right." Continuing to add extra emphasis on purpose.
He wanted only one girl throwing herself on him....
A flash of anger skids across her eyes but before Stefan could confirm it she blinks it away. Her features harden and her eyes turn into shards of ice. "I wouldn't know. But then again it's what all you men think about. I'm not surprised." The way in which she spoke was in absolute control, devoid of any feeling. Her facade said one thing yet her voice spoke something entirely different.
It left Stefan baffled....
****
A desperate longing courses through her wanting to reach for the magazine again. In reality, the desperate urge to roll the issue and take it with her was too hard to suppress. If she knew it was a fresh issue without so many others before her touched it and if Kent wasn't around, Camelia would have kissed the front cover and hugged and squeezed it over her chest. After she stared at his face for at least a week she would read what was written about him and preserve the copy. It would forever be stashed away along with the other items she'd accumulated over the years from him like a secret treasure.
But with Kent watching her every move and the way in which he was studying her made her uneasy as it was. Finding another way to get a copy was not happening anytime soon. Anything she said or did was no secret, he was likely to report back to her father. One of the greatest secrets she'd ever kept to herself wouldn't be a secret no more.
No one could know.
Why did she feel like he was baiting her with his comments? What game was he playing at? If he was, she thought, he had no idea she could play them better.
She couldn't help but feel as if he saw what she was withholding and wanted her to admit it to him. The secrets she held were never revealed to anyone nor ever voiced out loud in the safe confines of her room. In her head they will forever stay. She may be quiet and collected but she had a whole lot of experience at hiding her deepest feelings. It was mastered technique over the years. She could be tortured to death and she'd die not saying a word.
"Monsieur, Mademoiselle, votre table est prête." ( Sir, miss your table is ready). The hostess approached them with two menus in her arms and a smile, oblivious of the tension brewing in the air.
Camelia and Kent stood immediately and followed her to the table set for two. It was intimately placed in a corner, facing a view of the vast gardens surrounding the establishment. A red rose was submerged with water in the center of a small, slim vase, alongside small flickering candles. Two place settings were laid out with silverware against a white pristine table cloth. As they took their seats the hostess placed their menus before them.
"Votre serveur sera la dans un instant pour prendre votre commande."Â Â (Your server will be right with you to take your orders).
"Merci."Â Both Kent and Camelia replied in sync.
Their eyes locked briefly.
Kent's eyes held a mischievous glint. His lips were set in a flat line but his eyes were smiling. Camelia is the first to break eye contact, busying her eyes to scan the menu. Damn him, she thought slightly irritated.  An intuitive awareness within her said he was playing with herâtesting her. And she hated it.
"Come here often?" She asked after a few moments, lifting her head. It was her turn to question him. She wondered, in a flash of insight, how many times he had eaten there.
The smirk he was hiding surfaced and Camelia narrowed her blue sharp eyes, having the urge to splash the contents of water, rose and all in his arrogant face and wipe that half-smile.
"I've come here several times." He replied, pausing before clearing his throat. "With...friends."
Friends.
I don't think so. She thought, internally scoffing. He purposefully omitted the word girlfriends. A flutter of irritation crawled up her spine.
The French restaurant was intimate, dark and romantic Camelia observed. She easily imagined people making reservations to impress a first date or celebrate an anniversary. The pricey menu options said it all. In the next instant, she wondered why she cared as her irritation mounted.
Of the few people seated, they all consisted of a man and woman. Some clasped hands in the middle of the table. Others had loving smiles directed at their significant other. Camelia witnessed a couple across the restaurant sitting side by side, their heads close, noses nearly touching, ready to kiss.
It was true she was the quiet type but her eyes captured it all.
"Uh-huh." Camelia replied instead. She didn't even try to hide the doubt from her response. "What do you and your friends usually have from the menu?" Asking him with a raised eyebrow, challenging him to correct himself.
"I've tried almost everything and I can assure you it all tastes impeccable."Â He replied, staring intently into her eyes.
He sounded so much more mature than he looked and acted.
The candle flickered over their faces placing a ethereal glow, extinguishing the darkness surrounding them. The scene was so intimate, the distance so small, Camelia could easily reach out and slip off the glasses perched high up on his nose like she yearned to do. They added extra emphasis to his features providing a innocent look. Honing in on her keen senses she's learned, Kent was far from harmless. He was far more knowledgable and acute than he showed. He was a man with a lot of experience.
It was true what they say: appearances are deceiving.
"I'm sure you have." Agreeing with him about the menu and trying everything. She perched her elbow on the table and rested her chin in her palm, leaning her upper body closer and crossed her legs. Feeling bold and very comfortable she continued with her questions. "Do you have a girlfriend Kent?"
"Why do you ask?" Folding his own arms over the table, his face was a few inches from hers. He never breaks eye contactâan answering spark of amusement in their depths.
"Asking a question with a question just looks like you're avoiding the subject."Â She countered, trailing her eyes over his rugged features, catching the flicker of the candlelight dance and sway against his lenses.
"Touché." He replied with a wink. "But the answer to your question is no."
She didn't believe him.
"Have you ever been in love?" Deciding to ask a more personal question. She was curious. Might as well learn as much as she can about the man who will be spending more time with her than her own family.
"No." Was the curt reply. "Not yet. How about you?" He asked with sudden interest.
She wasn't expecting that.
Just when she thought she had the upper hand, he swoops in and dominates the conversation. Camelia shifted uneasily.  It got her thinking. She'd never questioned it until Kent brought it up. But the first person she could associate the term with was Stefan.
Camelia wondered if anyone could ever compare to him.
It warmed her insides whenever his image entered her mind, flashing back to the magazine issue left back on the table. Her head involuntarily snapped in that direction, over her shoulder. Kent follows her stare and looks back towards her with a frown. She looks down at the white tablecloth in embarrassment.
Love.
What a simple word yet so complicated. What's the point of love if it's one sided? Growing up loving Stefan had brought her joy and something to look forward to for the future. What she felt was indeed love but it didn't feel real anymore now that she had time to contemplate. It was based on a fleeting moment and a conjured up imitation of the real thing from her mind.
But Stefan never stopped showing her how much he meant to her or how much he cared. She loved how he reached out every year for her birthday. The gesture was purely innocent she knew but she couldn't help but feel loved. Purposefully, without any pressure, he thought of her and made it known he cared. That must be one form of love, wasn't it?
He was special to her. She couldn't deny it no matter how hard she tried.
Despite setting her aside at the auction she still loved him, yes, there was no doubt. Technically she was single but her heart was taken by someone she couldn't call her own.
"I wouldn't know. I've never been in a relationship in order to experience what love is between a man and a woman." She answered to the best she could, avoiding a direct answer. It wasn't a lie. She didn't know how it felt to be loved by another.
Was it possible for her to break free of the iron hold Stefan had over her heart? She was finally ready and of age, ripe for the taking.  Ready for him to claim her as his own. Recalling his words out on the terrace under disguise, she still held onto some inkling of hope that he meant the words he said to herâthe mysterious lady in red. Although she swore to get over him after that night, his roots were buried too deep in her to break free that easily.
He might as well have tattooed his name on her heart. Her love for him hummed in her veins. It was difficult to suppress what the heart still wants.
Words are easy to say and actions are harder to convince.
Camelia would wait for him or another like Kivanç because honestly she didn't know what the future held in store. She'd keep on hoping for the impossible until the odds stacked up against her. One way or another, time will reveal all. She'd keep all her options open.
Unless something changed.
Breaking out of her trance she refocused on Kent. Camelia could have sworn he held his breath because he exhaled deeply, in what seemed like relief.
"I find it surprising."
"What?" She asked eyeing him closely.
"That you've never been a relationship. You're an exceptional beauty I thought you'd be beating men away with a baseball bat."
"No. They mostly stay away like I hold a disease. Which is fine by me." Camelia replied with a blush. "My circle is small, and I'd like to keep it that way." He most likely thought she was the most bizarre human being on earth.  All he'd based his conclusions on was what she'd offered to inform, consisting of a vague and incomplete description.
Let him believe what he wishes.  The rest is irrelevant. But was it?
Kent raises both eyebrows in astonishment.
"So what your saying you don't want to fall in love and you don't want to be in a relationship?" The disbelief in his tone was present. "That's hard to believe, we all need someone that completes us."
"I'm saving myself for someone special. Someone worth the wait." Camelia concludes holding his gaze.
His entire body stiffens like a block of ice. Staring unseeingly at her, Camelia watches him carefully. He shakes his head as if to shake something off his mind.
"If you don't mind me asking..."Â Hesitating briefly he continued, "What qualities attract you?"
She sensed he was trying to remain indifferent.
"It's simple really. I want to love a man for his mind, not just the physical qualities. Intelligence is attractive in my book. So is loyalty, equality, trust..."
Camelia watched Kent gulp heavily and straighten his back, providing distance once again. The hot and cold vibes she kept receiving left her confused. One minute he's open, the next he closes up like a clam. She could already feel a uncomfortable current form in the air.
He clears his throat and nods slightly. "Word of advice for when you do....Don't fall for the first man that gives you attention. Be aware most have only one agenda and that's to get you to bed. Take it from a man's perspective." Giving her a pointed look. "I'm not saying that reflects my behavior but you'd be surprised how much the male species thinks about sex." He warned.
His blue eyes burned with such a intensity it left her nearly breathless. His pointed stare held her captive. However, relaxed he seemed, a current of tension rolled off of him in waves.
It's as if he was warning her about Kivanç who she never revealed anything about. He, next to Stefan was the only other man who's attention she'd welcomed for the first time in her life. His warnings made her feel uneasy.
"This conversation has become highly inappropriate." Camelia said, tucking loose strands of hair behind her back. Her gaze drifted down to shadow her eyes. She shook her head and inhaled deeply to steady her jumbled nerves, shifting in discomfort.
He was getting too personal for her taste. It had to be by far one of the most uncomfortable conversations she had ever had with someone she barely knew. On top of it all, she couldn't believe how easily she opened up to him. He maneuvered the conversation so smoothly and got her talking, the previous precautions flying out the window.
Stefan pretended to scan the menu and lifted it to obscure his face contemplating all she said during the most bizarre conversation he'd ever had with a female.
Most girls welcomed a man's attention. Most even dressed to impress. Most girls yearned to be in love and live the fantasy mapped out in their heads since children. Never in his thirty years has he encountered man nor woman not wanting, needing companionship of some sort, to share their life withâa higher level of intimacy with another in order to fill a sense fulfillment.
Completion.
He couldn't bring himself to move. He was shocked if not disappointed, confused and desperate. He craved to hear otherwise. Stefan was not sure exactly what he wanted to hear but her unwillingness to be open to relationships wedged itself within him.
Signs lead to a destination, an answer, an end. Stefan was someone who always prided himself on his intuition. It was never wrong.
Camelia was no liar, never misleading. She was too naive and inexperienced to play games.
There was a greater meaning to, Someone worth the wait. Her unwavering, knowledgable stare shook his core. And her words rocked the foundation of his world.
A spark, a lightning bolt, jolted his brain, immobilizing him speechless when she said those four words. Their power shook his core, shifting his equilibrium, causing the oddest sensation to overcome him. It was like she reached out and stroked his soul from deep within the center in which it stayed hidden and locked pulling the strings of his soul like a harp, lulling his senses, calling out her sweet melody and pulling him under her spell much like an enchantress.
In order to understand one must listen twice. First, listen to the words. Second, listen to who said them.
It was a useful tactic in order to find the answers he sought. Stefan had to admit the weight of her words affected him more than anything he had ever experienced. It was an intense, nearly indescribable feeling.
A internal shudder racks his body but he hides his strange reaction well before she noticed, clenching on his teeth and shifting on his chair to stay upright.
Who was she waiting for? That was the million dollar question. And why was he so moved by what she revealed? He wanted answers to her hidden innuendo. Setting the menu down he watched her bowed head while she contemplated the menu selections while stroking his beard.
If anyone tries as so much to talk to you, they're dead. He thinks silently. The rush of possessiveness overwhelmed his senses and clouded his logic.
Camelia was by far the most achingly innocent, beautiful and puzzling female he'd ever encountered with a heart of gold and a mind as hard as nails. The shell surrounding her will be hard to break. He tried cracking the exterior and failed, learning there was more than one and an even higher wall he had to climb in order to reach her secrets.
The waiter arrives to take their orders, a welcoming distraction from the disconcerting, suffocating air that appeared between them.
The entire time they sat in the restaurant, Stefan couldn't pinpoint what ignited the gnawing sensations trying to claw out of the dark abyss of his mind. They were lost somewhere between secrets and the truth.
But were would he begin questioning when none of it made any sense...
______________________________________________________
Thanks for reading! A little more personal and intimate this time. How was it?
To those French speakers...feel free to correct my French (thanks for the last time)!
Don't forget to press vote...share (add to your reading lists) and let me know your thoughts with a comment! :)
-Shaz