still present in the length of his mane of long black unkept hair. The smudge on his cheek has worn off sometime during our adventure. There’s something endearing about it. Innocent.
A moth to a flame, I can’t help being drawn to this man. “I’d love to.”
“Then it’s a date.” Placing his cutlery on the table, he waves his hands together. One second they’re empty, the next a white flower is nestled in his palm. Lowering it gently, he leaves it before me in offering.
A rose.
Soft petals, milky white, its purity takes my breath away.
Chapter Four
Huddled in my coat to keep out the chill of the night, I stand outside the address Rafe jotted down for me on a paper napkin before he left the café the other day. Dressing in a stylish black dress, my blonde hair is tied up in a neat ponytail. Lip gloss gives my mouth a tempting sheen of color. The minimal smoky makeup I’m wearing brings out the color of my eyes.
I’ve breathed in the city and culture for almost a week now. Spent time wandering the museums, marvelled at the artwork and sculptures. Being in Rafe’s company is when I feel the happiest.
I’m hoping my effort won’t be wasted on him. With only three days left until I fly home to the states, I want to make an impression tonight. Why waste the time we have left? I’ve never been so certain about wanting someone in my life. Dreaming of his lips on mine, his body pinning me while we have sex, plagues my dreams. With time trickling away like grains of sand, I want to experience that in the flesh before it’s too late. A vacation fling. Fun with someone who calls to me on a deeper level than I’ve ever experience before. It’s hard to explain how special he makes me feel.
Looking up and down the cobbled empty street, my attention falls to the open metal gate. Gingerly stepping past it, I find a cozy courtyard and a building discreetly hidden within the high brick walls enclosing it. Pausing, I study the brightly lit windows and the tall four story home. It speaks of wealth and privilege. Is Rafe a famous painter? Maybe this belongs to a patron if he has one? I need to ask about his artwork. The thought of buying and taking one of his paintings home as a memento of my time with him brings a pang of sadness.
“Good Evening, Samantha.”
Clutching my shoulder bag tightly, I jump at the sound of the voice behind me. Whirling around to find the owner, I take in Rafe towering over me. Makeup has been expertly applied over his face. His eye sockets have been deepened dramatically with gray and black stark against the white painted beneath them. Cheeks sunken in, they’ve been blended to look realistic as is his missing nose. Skillfully done, his lips are missing, and in their stead, skeletal teeth are present. One blue and one green eye stares down at me from within the hollows.
The effect is disturbing and sinister. It instantly reminds me of the skulls from the catacombs, sending an echo of unease through my system.
“Was I supposed to dress up in a costume?” I laugh lightly to hide my nerves.
“Today is the Day of the Dead, and we’re celebrating in our own style. Did you know it has roots in ancient Aztec rituals?” Rafe tells me, holding out a mask. “You’ll have to wear this.”
I inspect the pretty colorful sugar skull design on the front before turning around to let him slip it over my face. “No, I didn’t.”
“It’s said the boundaries between the worlds of the living and dead are at their thinnest today.” Rafe continues, settling the mask in place, his fingers brushing my neck, causing me to shiver as he fastens the black lace ties.
“From what I remember, this is to celebrate the acceptance of death.” Turning, I peer up at him through the eye holes, giving him a shy smile. “And to honor loved ones who have died.”
“That it is.” Offering me his arm courteously, he ushers me toward the smart black door.
“Rafe who lives here?” I ask with growing curiosity.
Instead of answering, he opens it and hurries me inside.
We enter a long corridor. A huge gilded mirror hangs among the paintings, adorning the white walls. The sound of music and voices radiates further from somewhere inside. Slipping out of my coat, Rafe hooks it on a peg on the