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Chapter 15 - The Garden

Nicholas slowed his steps as they reached the grand staircase. He paused at the bottom, leaning casually against the ornate bannister, his lips tugged into that awkward, infuriatingly charming smirk.

"So," he began, his tone light, "how are you liking your little tour so far?"

Ella crossed her arms, tilting her head to the side. "It's fine, I guess."

"Fine?" Nicholas arched an eyebrow, feigning insult. "Ella, do you know how many people would kill to walk these halls? 'Fine' is the best you can do?"

She bit her lip, stifling a smile. "Well, if you're so desperate for praise, I could tell you how extravagant and excessive it all is."

He let out a bark of laughter, his hand flying to his chest as if her words had wounded him. "Extravagant and excessive? Ouch. I might need a drink to recover from that brutal honesty."

Ella rolled her eyes. "You'll survive."

Nicholas pushed off the bannister and walked toward her, his movements slow and deliberate, like a predator closing in on its prey.

"You know, most people try to butter me up. Say nice things. Compliment my impeccable taste."

"Well," she shot back, standing her ground despite the way her heart started pounding in her chest, "I'm not most people."

He stopped just inches away from her, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "That much is obvious."

Ella swallowed hard, the tension between them thick and palpable. She could feel the heat radiating off his body, and for a brief, insane moment, she wondered what would happen if she just leaned in, closed the distance, and—

"So," Nicholas said, breaking the spell with a teasing grin, "should I be worried about what you'll say when you see the garden?"

She blinked, forcing herself to focus. "The garden?"

"Yes," he said, gesturing for her to follow him. "Come on. You'll like this part."

He led her through another set of doors and out onto a sprawling terrace that overlooked a beautifully landscaped garden. Twinkling fairy lights lined the pathways, and a soft glow from hidden lamps illuminated the flowers and trees, creating an almost magical atmosphere.

Ella couldn't help but gasp. "Wow…"

Nicholas turned to her, his smile triumphant. "Finally. Something that impresses you."

She tried to hide her awe, but it was impossible. The garden was breathtaking, like something out of a fairytale. "Okay, fine. This is… nice."

"Nice?" Nicholas shook his head, letting out a mock sigh. "You really don't hand out compliments easily, do you?"

"I guess not," she said, smiling despite herself.

He stepped closer to her, his voice dropping to a soft murmur. "That's okay. I like a challenge."

Ella felt her cheeks heat up, but she refused to look away. There was something disarming about Nicholas—the way he could shift from teasing to intense in the blink of an eye. It left her feeling off-balance, like she was walking a tightrope and he was the one holding the safety net.

"Do you ever turn it off?" she asked, trying to deflect.

"Turn what off?"

"The… charm," she said, gesturing vaguely toward him. "The constant flirting. The smugness."

Nicholas chuckled, the sound low and warm. "Smugness? That's harsh."

"Well?" she pressed, raising an eyebrow.

He shrugged, his grin widening. "It's not something I can just turn off. It's who I am."

"Of course it is," she muttered, but there was no heat behind her words.

They wandered through the garden, Nicholas pointing out random facts about the flowers and plants, though Ella wasn't sure if he was being truthful or just making things up to make her laugh. Either way, she found herself smiling more than she expected, her earlier tension slowly melting away.

At one point, he picked a small flower and held it out to her, his expression uncharacteristically soft. "Here. For you."

Ella hesitated before taking it, her fingers brushing against his. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it," he said, but there was something in his eyes that made her heart skip a beat.

They walked back to the terrace in comfortable silence, the sounds of the night filling the air around them. Nicholas leaned against the railing, watching her as she gazed out at the garden.

"You know," he said after a moment, his tone casual, "I think you're starting to like me."

Ella turned to him, raising an eyebrow. "What makes you think that?"

He smirked. "You're smiling more. Laughing at my jokes. Accepting flowers from me."

"Don't read too much into it," she said, though her lips twitched upward despite herself.

"Oh, I'm reading into it," he said, his voice low and teasing. "And I think you're starting to see that I'm not so bad after all."

Ella rolled her eyes, but the heat in her cheeks betrayed her. "You're annoying."

"And yet," he said, stepping closer, "here you are."

The tension between them crackled like a live wire, and Ella felt her breath catch as Nicholas's gaze dropped to her lips. For a moment, she thought he might kiss her, and the thought sent a thrill of anticipation coursing through her.

But then he stepped back, his playful grin returning. "Come on. I'll walk you back inside."

Ella followed him reluctantly, the spell broken but the tension lingering in the air like a shadow.

Back inside, Nicholas led her to the base of the staircase. He leaned casually against the bannister, his eyes never leaving hers.

"Well," he said, his voice soft, "I guess this is where we say goodnight."

Ella nodded, suddenly feeling awkward. "Yeah. Goodnight."

But as she turned to head upstairs, Nicholas's voice stopped her.

"Ella."

She turned back to find him watching her with an intensity that made her heart race.

"Sweet dreams," he said, his voice low and smooth.

She nodded, her throat suddenly dry. "You too."

As she climbed the stairs, she couldn't shake the feeling of Nicholas's gaze on her, or the way her heart seemed to beat a little faster whenever he was near. And as she slipped into the guest room, her mind swirled with thoughts of him—his teasing smile, his dark eyes, and the way he had a knack for making her feel like the center of his world, even if just for a moment.

She sank onto the bed, clutching the small flower he had given her, and let out a shaky breath. She wasn't sure what she had gotten herself into.

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