Chapter 42

Chapter 42

“Last? Are you saying you plan to eat every meal out—breakfast, lunch, and dinner tomorrow too?”

“No! That’s not what I meant. I meant it’s a shame this dinner’s last course is already over.”

Rose took another generous spoonful of the refreshing sherbet. It was so cold and crisp it melted on her tongue like a midsummer night’s dream.

“Do you always eat like this, James?”

“Well… more or less.”

He flashed that crooked, self-satisfied smile.

“If you like the food so much, how about amending our contract to a marriage license? Then you’d have this every day for the rest of your life.”

“Kkh—! Cough, cough!”

Mid-savor, she choked on the raspberry sherbet at his brazen suggestion.

“Oh dear. Are you alright?”

James quickly stood to pat her back. When she finally caught her breath, eyes watering, she glared up at him.

“Honestly. Do you ever stop joking around?”

“I’m always completely serious.”

“You’re serious about teasing me, that’s what.”

She shot him a sidelong look, unimpressed by his infuriatingly calm, handsome expression.

“So. Anything to talk about that isn’t food?”

Avoiding his intense stare, Rose let her eyes wander—and landed on the ceiling.

“Ah! That chandelier is really something. I’m so impressed it’s all electric.”

Dozens of bulbs gleamed in the high ceiling’s grand fixture.

“I’ve never seen so many in one place. Even at Countess Chester’s mansion, electric bulbs are rare.”

“Staring at it too long will ruin your eyes.”

Countess Chester’s place had adopted some new technology too, with many things automated, but most of the lighting was still gas.

For all her wealth, she couldn’t afford to burn electricity like this. James’s resources were simply on another level.

“It doesn’t flicker or waver like gaslight. It keeps this steady glow… it really is magical.”

He chuckled aloud at her awed tone.

“What’s so funny?”

“Hearing you call something ‘magical’ is surprisingly novel.”

He didn’t bother hiding his amusement.

“If you like, Rose, would you care to experience some other magic?”

He walked to the window and started up the gramophone.

“Oh, I know what that is.”

“Not this one, you don’t.”

Music spilled from the lily-shaped speaker—so clear and pure it sounded as if an entire orchestra were performing in the room.

“Goodness! It’s so vivid! This really is magical.”

Her foot tapped in time before she realized it, mind already racing through spell formulas and potential enchantments she could adapt from this technology.

The power swirling in her veins made anything feel possible.

Lost in thought, she didn’t notice James watching her until he spoke again.

“Would you like to dance?”

His voice snapped her abruptly back to reality.

“Here?”

“Why not?”

But she hesitated at his offered hand.

“If you prefer, think of it as practice between business partners.”

The music played on, a gentle, lilting dance tune. James’s gaze never wavered from hers, those deep blue eyes locked on her violet ones.

“Or consider it a friendly measure for smooth contract execution.”

Typical businessman—utterly unromantic phrasing. Yet something about that low voice, those careful words, brushed over her heart like silk.

“…Just one song.”

Rose took his hand. Immediately she felt the familiar warmth of his magic curling through her fingers, seeping into her.

“Hold on properly. I’ll regulate the magic.”

His large hand settled firmly at her waist, drawing her close so there was barely a hand’s breadth between them. Their breaths tangled in the small space left.

One hand rested against his heated palm, the other braced on his solid arm. She drew in a shaky breath.

He pulled her forward, his steps slow but commanding, and the heat of his magic sank into her chest, setting her heart pounding.

“…”

James’s eyes bored into her, unblinking, darkened with something she refused to name.

‘I’m seriously losing it.’

His gaze wasn’t just that of a dance partner; it was deep, searching, and impossible to dodge. The searing blue was molten with emotion. She turned her face away in surrender.

“Rose.”

“…Yes?”

“Do you not usually talk while dancing?”

“Huh? Oh. No, I do. That’s not it.”

Almost teasingly, he spun her in a sudden, deep turn.

“Ah—!”

The dramatic move forced her to clutch his hand tighter.

“My apologies.”

His mouth twitched with amusement even as he feigned politeness.

He continued with unexpected steps that left her scrambling to keep up.

“Wait, wait! I’m tripping over my feet!”

“That’s fine. No one’s watching.”

He was utterly shameless, pushing her almost too far before pulling away just enough to make her crave the closeness again. She found herself chasing his lead, drawn to the rhythm, to him.

Before she knew it, the song ended. She hesitated, feeling oddly breathless, but the next tune began immediately—a slower, sultrier melody.

James didn’t let go of her hand. Neither of them moved to break away.

They just floated to the languid, almost underwater tempo, the world reduced to two sets of breath and two pairs of eyes.

It wasn’t dancing so much as moving together without thought or reason.

“James. That’s already two songs.”

“Is it?”

But neither stepped back.

Instead they stayed there, pressed close, swaying gently, as if the music were the only law.

Every step sent heat and magic crawling over her skin, teasing something restless awake.

She found her grip on him tightening involuntarily.

“Ah…”

Suddenly, James’s magic surged—no longer the slow seep of heat but a violent, hungry current she couldn’t control.

Rose’s eyes flew open in alarm to find his own wide with surprise.

“Rose. What… did you just do to me?”

His voice was strangled, forced low.

He wasn’t pushing magic into her. She was pulling it from him.

Panicking, she ripped her hands away, but the sudden movement unbalanced her.

She pitched forward, only for James to catch her around the waist, pulling her flush against his chest.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

She could feel his heartbeat pounding like a drum.

‘I have to get away.’

But the steady rhythm seemed to lock her in place, binding her like a spell.

Magic pooled between them, thick as ink soaking paper.

Was it the raw potency of his mana? Or their shared heat?

She felt like they would simply melt into one another, no boundary left.

Their noses brushed. She didn’t dare blink. If she closed her eyes, she wasn’t sure what she’d do.

It felt like an eternity suspended in a single breath.

And then James moved first.

He exhaled shakily and pulled back, his face twisted in a pained, resigned smile.

“At least you didn’t get hurt.”

His voice was low, controlled, as if he were holding something back by force.

“I… I guess I had more wine than I thought.”

Rose’s excuse was pathetic even to her own ears.

James gave a humorless chuckle and offered his hand once more.

“Yes. Let me escort you to your room.”

He didn’t bother changing clothes.

Standing in the middle of his room, James muttered under his breath.

“Idiot.”

He’d lost count of how many times he’d called himself that tonight.

He picked up the decanter of whiskey, then set it down again, realizing alcohol wasn’t going to solve anything.

He hated how pathetic this desire made him feel.

“I’m not some animal.”

He didn’t want to be reminded how thin a man’s self-control really was.

When he’d caught her wrist as she fell—just that simple contact—he’d felt it.

If he’d never known that sensation, he could have avoided all of this.

But now it was too late.

The memory of it clung to him, both intoxicating and humiliating.

It felt like the entire universe named Rose was sucking him in, breaking him apart.

His carefully locked-away sanity coming undone, piece by piece.

That memory of magic being drawn from him, replaced by her scent.

That sweet, unmistakable scent of roses.

The memory of that night when he’d buried his face in her bare skin, breathing her in like he could never get enough.

“Damn it.”

James clenched his fist hard enough that it trembled.