{Erik}

Andrea's gaze was fixed on me, her lips parted in surprise as I revealed I was a lighthouse keeper. A reaction I knew all too well - a mix of amazement and fascination that often preceded a look loaded with desire. I'd seen that look countless times in the past when women discovered my profession as a firefighter. But never before had someone been so thrilled to learn I worked in a lighthouse.

'And what's your secret?' I asked in a low tone, letting my gaze slide slowly over her face. 'What do you do?'

Before me stood an intelligent and elegant woman, whose natural calmness made me think of an office job, perhaps in accounting or finance. But there was something more to her, a mystery I sensed beneath that serene façade. Maybe she was a creative artist hiding her inner passion. I leaned in, drawn by the curiosity Andrea sparked in me. Our knees almost touched, and I could feel the scorching heat of her skin, as if an invisible thread was pulling our bodies together.

'Me? Good question,' Andrea replied with a mysterious smile, her eyes slowly scanning the dining room, as if searching for the answer in the air around us.

Suddenly, her gaze stopped on the wooden bookshelf by the fireplace, packed with my books. Her face lit up with sudden joy, and she extended her delicate hand towards it, making me turn to follow the trajectory of her arm. My initial confusion turned to fascination as I grasped what she was trying to tell me.

'Are you a writer?' I asked, my voice trembling with excitement.

As a teenager, I'd seen a film where the gruff detective protagonist fell head over heels in love with a mystery novelist. The intensity of their love story had unconsciously turned writers into a fetish for me. I'd always seen them as mysterious creatures, with a passion and creativity that drew me in irresistibly. And now, here I was, sitting across from a woman who seemed to emanate that same aura of mystery and creative genius, stirring my deepest desires.

She made a hesitant gesture with her head, causing one of the curls from her bun to escape wildly and bounce against her rosy cheek like a mischievous spring. With a slow, seductive movement, Andrea tucked the rebellious curl behind her ear.

'Soon,' she replied finally, her gaze loaded with hope and a mischievous glint in her eyes.

'What do you write about?' I pressed on, feeling my curiosity about this enigmatic woman growing with every passing moment.

From the confused expression on her face, it seemed she wasn't quite sure. She brought the tea cup to her full lips as if to avoid answering my question. Although she tried to hide it, her brow furrowed slightly, betraying that she didn't enjoy the tea. She cleared her throat softly and, with a slow, seductive movement, returned the almost untouched cup to the table.

She seemed to be buying time, trying to find the perfect words to respond. And I found myself waiting with rapt attention, captivated by her movements.

'About me,' she whispered finally, her voice so low I had to lean in to hear her confession, bringing me perilously close to her lips.

I was taken aback by her response. Did she write about herself? That was something I hadn't expected. A sudden urge to know her story took hold of me. What secrets did her creative mind hide? What had driven her to settle in this remote corner of Pierowall to put her life on paper? I felt like I was on the verge of uncovering the mysteries only she knew, and my desire to uncover them grew with every second.

'Do you write about yourself in Pierowall? Why?' I asked, filled with curiosity.

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Andrea shrugged, and a shadow of anguish crossed her face, as if she was struggling to find the right words to respond. I kept my gaze fixed on her, hypnotized by every slight movement of her full lips and every blink of her long, seductive eyelashes.

'I don't know,' she said finally, her voice filled with uncertainty and mystery. 'Is it because it's far away?' she asked, more to herself than to me.

'You've certainly chosen a very remote place, far from Madrid,' I teased softly. 'Are you running from someone?'

But her eyes clouded over immediately, and I felt a pang in my stomach. I had unintentionally touched a sensitive topic. She was running from something, or someone.

'No, I... well. My English. It's a way to practice,' she stammered with a slightly trembling voice, as if trying to convince herself that was the real reason.

I restrained the impulse to comfort her with a touch, seeing how her gaze fixed on the fire with vulnerability and her cheeks flushed, wanting to hide her deeper emotions. I didn't know if it was due to her inability to express herself better or if my joke had reopened a wound from her painful past. Nor did I know the reasons that had brought her to the remote island of Westray, but I couldn't bear to see her suffer. In that moment, I knew I would do anything to bring back her smile. With delicacy, as if I feared scaring a fragile creature, I extended my hand to gently touch hers on the sofa. A light contact, but one charged with scorching warmth.

'Your English is better than my Spanish,' I said softly, trying to steer the conversation towards the excuse she had given herself. I hoped to dispel the shadow of sadness I had seen in her beautiful eyes.

Andrea bit her lower lip sensually, rewarding me with a small, grateful smile. Her deep, brown eyes seemed to search for something in mine. After a few seconds, she sighed and looked away, surrendering to something her mind had told her.

I wish I could read her thoughts and discover what secrets made her feel so fragile and vulnerable. But I could only see that helpless look and feel the urge to make her smile again, to bring back the light.

It had been years since I'd had a partner, and months since my last physical contact with a woman. Although I didn't think time would take its toll, it was clear that Andrea was awakening a deep desire in me that had been dormant for too long.

But I didn't want to scare her or make her feel pressured. She seemed like a wounded woman, and I felt like I only had one chance to make her feel safe and not shut down on me. So I promised myself I'd go slow, making her feel secure and protected, comfortable in my company, and most of all, that she could trust me.

I turned to the window for a moment and saw that the rain had stopped, making it the perfect time to take her out and show her the surroundings of the lighthouse, distracting her from her inner demons.

'Come on,' I said, standing up and extending my hand towards her.

Andrea looked at it for a moment before fixing her eyes on mine in a way that was so innocent it made me shiver. It was going to be hard to be a gentleman if every time she looked at me, she did it with such sensuality and innocence mixed. Her delicate hand grasped mine, and an electric shock ran through me from head to toe. I wanted to feel those soft hands all over my body.

I made a great effort not to think about my deeper desires and led her to the entrance, helping her with her boots while I put on mine. Once ready, I took my thick winter coat from the hook and handed it to her with a gentle gesture. I knew it would be huge on her, but at least it would keep her body warm. I put on my waterproof jacket, which wouldn't keep me warm but would keep me dry. The cold outside wasn't a problem for me; I was more than used to it.

Andrea looked at the coat in her hand and then at her own, which was still damp.

'Wear it, it's better than yours,' I said softly.

She hesitated for a moment, but finally put it on, and I couldn't help but chuckle softly at how the coat practically reached her knees, while it barely covered my thighs. A simply adorable sight.

'Hood,' I indicated with a deep voice, while I tucked my hair under the hood of my jacket.

'Hood,' she repeated with an excited smile, remembering the word I had taught her earlier.

'Good,' I smiled and winked at her, captivated by her joy.

I approached her, invading her personal space, to adjust the coat's toggles so the cold wind wouldn't get in. My hand subtly brushed against her rosy cheek as I adjusted the hood. I wanted to make sure she was comfortable and protected from the cold of Noup Head. Once I checked that she was well-covered with my own coat, I opened the door and gestured with my head for her to follow me outside.