Chapter 2
Author's note: This chapter starts the new content for this story that began in Chapter 35 from my series, A Beautiful Symmetry.
"You have been the one encounter in my life that can never be repeated"
― Ayn Rand, The Fountainhead
Klaus no longer considered himself a creature of infinite patience. Over the centuries, that finely-honed trait had be thoroughly tested and he thought that nothing could break his rigid control — until a couple of months ago when he met a feisty blonde and his world came crashing down around his ears. He was caught completely by surprise when he realized he was in love with Caroline, but unfortunately, he was too late to save her from his mother's wrath. Esther had tricked her into drinking a nightshade-laced tea that erased every memory she had of Klaus, and during a far-too-brief good-bye, Caroline had learned of the hidden supernatural world and that it was because of his love for her that she had been unjustly punished.
After he killed Esther, he exhausted his supernatural contacts trying to restore Caroline's memories of their time together, and was told that because she had been merely a human when she ingested the tea, her memories were gone forever. When he returned to her, he set about keeping the promise he made to her:
Caroline's tear-streaked face had been so frightened as she had asked Klaus brokenly, "But what if you can't get my memories back?"
"Then we'll create new memories. Even better ones, love," Klaus vowed, kissing her with a desperate, feverish passion as he saw her beautiful blue eyes begin to glaze over.
He angrily shook his head at the memory, loathing the wretched, helpless feeling that washed over him. He tightened the toggle bolts he was using to reattach the plaster molding he made, swiping at his sweaty brow as he tried to perfectly align the seams in the ceiling medallion. He nearly dropped the painstakingly crafted piece when Caroline's melodious voice startled him from his perch atop the two-story scaffolding.
"Looking good, Klaus!" When she appeared to realize the accidental innuendo, she blushed furiously, nervously tucking blonde curls behind her ear as she stammered, "The ceiling, I mean. You must be really good with your hands...um, I mean because of how intricate the work is and that uh...ornamental plaster casting is a craft that requires years of training and experience," she clumsily finished, her blue eyes stubbornly fixating on the partially reconstructed ceiling medallion rather than looking at the smirking contractor.
While Klaus outwardly enjoyed making Caroline flustered, he also felt the smallest flicker of hope at moments like this when she showed her interest in him but tried to maintain a stubborn wall of professionalism since they were coworkers. When Klaus reinserted himself into her life, he had pretended to be an expert in historical restoration in addition to being an "ancestor" of the renowned architect, Niklaus Mikaelson, who built the estate in the late Victorian era. She had been eager to work with him, and already he felt they had grown closer in the past few weeks. Just like the first time he had gotten to know her, they bonded over a passion for architecture.
However, one drawback to knowing her so well was that he had to hold himself back from scaring her away by his obvious familiarity with her — from her background to her quirks, not to mention the bittersweet muscle memory his body wanted to indulge in every time she was near. It was maddening trying to fight how his body knew the precise press of her curves and the soft noises of pleasure he remembered he could coax from her lips. He knew he could get them back to that place once more, but his patience was waning. Especially if she continued to blush so prettily under his gaze. "I appreciate the compliment, love," he purred, forcing his body to move down the scaffolding ladder at a human pace.
When he returned to the maple floor, he busied himself at the small table off to the side, handing her a to-go cup from a small cafe in town. "I thought you might appreciate a treat before you get back to your tedious spreadsheets for the historical society."
As she took a sip, she happily exclaimed, "Yum! Milk oolong tea with a dash of tarragon — but how did you know it was my favorite?"
Bollocks. He shrugged, trying and failing to appear nonchalant. At this rate, he might as well tell her that he also knew all about the tiny spiral-patterned birthmark on her inner thigh. "You were drinking it the other day and I smelled the tarragon." He hastily explained, holding his breath as he wondered if that sounded as ridiculous out loud as it did in his head.
"Huh. You must have a nose like a wolf, Klaus," she commented offhandedly, seemingly failing to notice the choking sound he made.
Rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly, he replied, "Well, we can't all be wolves, sweetheart."
She smiled, her blue eyes alight with excitement as she lovingly looked at the remaining plaster mold piece he had left to install. "You did an outstanding job designing the acanthus foliage in this piece, Klaus. It's almost as though Niklaus himself had a hand in its creation."
Klaus found himself fighting down a crimson blush that threatened to creep up his neck at her praise. It was ridiculous how Caroline could make him forget himself and feel like a green lad too tongue-tied to court her properly. Straightening his spine, he tried to sound casual as he told her, "So Mayor Lockwood has asked me to put in an appearance at the charity auction tomorrow evening. Perhaps you'd like to attend with me, sweetheart?"
A flash of surprise made its way across her face and she ducked her head shyly as she asked, "Really? I kind of thought you'd be tired of how I'm always talking about historic design and architecture."
The uncertainty in her voice tore at his heart and he knew that it came from her disastrous past relationship with Tyler. He should have that useless boy's head for making such a magnificent creature doubt herself. "Nonsense, love. You could say I'm a fan of architecture myself." He inwardly winced at the familiar phrase he had told her back when they met the first time. He always held onto a foolish sliver of hope that his words would unlock her lost memories and she would remember what they had. But they never did.
Caroline favored him with a sweet smile. "Then I'd love to go with you." She glanced at her phone and added, "I'm expecting the structural engineer consultant later this afternoon, so be sure to finish installing the remaining plaster before you leave for the day." She squinted up at the ceiling where the perfectly symmetrical oval-shaped hole used to be. All that remained now after Klaus' painstaking repairs were a few faint spider web-like cracks. "Hopefully he'll have an explanation for how the mansion's natural settling caused such oddly shaped damage in the ceiling."
Klaus stiffened slightly, recalling how Esther had used her magic to rip the moonstone from where he had hidden it in the ornamental ceiling medallion. It was the first repair he had volunteered to make for Caroline, not wanting the constant reminder of that terrible night when his wretched mother had stolen everything from him. Shrugging, he told her, "There could be several explanations for the curious shape. It's likely due to trapped moisture and decaying paint layers peeling away from the plaster. The top coat was dried thoroughly before I started installation, so I can guarantee it won't happen again." He began climbing the scaffolding again with the final molded piece, and if Caroline noticed the grim confidence in his tone, she chose not to comment.
The night of the charity auction, Klaus nearly was sent into a spiraling delirium at the sight of Caroline in a plunging red satin cocktail sheath in which he was uncomfortably familiar. Decadent, pleasurable memories of that dress seared his brain as he recalled weaving his fingertips through the thin straps that crisscrossed her back as he delicately stroked her soft ivory skin. Her breathy moan as he nibbled along her jawline once they had been alone. The way she had tugged on the ends of his curls as she rubbed her delicious curves against him. He quickly shook his head as he willed the sensual memories away. "You are stunning, love," he told her, placing a gentle kiss across her knuckles.
"And you are very handsome," she answered, allowing her penetrating blue gaze to roam over his charcoal Armani with the narrow pinstripe. She seemed to be on the verge of saying more, but they were interrupted by a server offering them seared pepper tenderloin on garlic crostini and miniature crab-Fontina soufflés.
"Caroline!" A brunette with what appeared to be a permanently furrowed brow called out to the blonde, clutching a clipboard to her chest as she said, "I seem to have ordered reclaimed narrow-plank Eastern white pine for the Mikaelson estate library."
Klaus watched with interest as Caroline attempted to control her fiery temper, admiring the way she carefully gripped the stem of her champagne flute, her blue eyes glaring frostily while she managed to maintain a pleasant smile and an even more amiable tone so as not to cause a scene at the charity auction. "You mean to tell me, Rayna, that despite my numerous phone calls and emails with detailed bullet points, you still managed to order a wood species used almost exclusively in the Northeast, not the South, during the Victorian era? Wide-plank maple is the vintage flooring needed to refurbish the Mikaelson library."
As the woman started to protest, Caroline silenced her with one carefully arched eyebrow as she commanded in that same pleasant-but-ruthless tone, "Take care of it. Tonight."
While watching the woman leave in a huff, Klaus noted in a detached way that she seemed to resemble the doppelganger somewhat, yet in person was even less memorable; if that was possible. He turned to the beautiful blonde beside him, an indulgent smile on his face as he watched her take a few calming breaths as she regained her rigid control. "Have I mentioned how much I delight in observing you take charge of the mayor's various underlings, love? It's a marvelous sight to behold," he admitted, clinking their champagne flutes together with a flirtatious wink.
"Ugh. That was Rayna, the town's resident mopey martyr. Honestly, how can you not know that early wooden flooring used wide planks because they required fewer joints and fasteners? Seriously, my father taught me that when I was a kid," she scoffed, snagging a cherry tomato stuffed with Swiss and Boursin cheeses.
He cocked his head in interest at the mention of her father. When he originally met her, he had learned that her father had been killed in a hunting accident and that she often retreated to the cabin he left her when she needed a break from her hectic life. She had taken Klaus there once, and his memories of the weekend they spent together was some of the happiest of his long life. "Your love of architecture comes from your father then," he asked, already knowing the answer but needing to rebuild the lost connections between them.
She nodded, a few blonde strands escaping from the elegant knot she effortlessly wore. "He was a contractor and used to take me out on his jobs when I was out of school for the summer. I always was fascinated by the amount of skill it took to take raw materials and turn them into a work of art." She favored Klaus with a fond smile, adding, "I think that's why architects like your ancestor, Niklaus, are such sources of inspiration to me. He was clearly a gifted artist, and I envy his talent."
He shifted uncomfortably, his cheeks reddening slightly as he listened to her unwittingly compliment him. He glanced at some of the paintings displayed for the silent auction that evening, suddenly grateful for the distraction. "I mentioned to you that I dabble in art from time to time. Would you like to see one of my pieces," he asked her somewhat hesitantly.
Intrigued, her eyes lit up and she replied, "You donated one of your own paintings to the auction? That was very generous of you. Of course, I'd love to see it, Klaus." She linked their arms together, practically dragging him through the crowd toward the rows of artwork to be auctioned off. They brushed past several familiar faces, their expressions no longer registering Klaus despite having met him when he first arrived in town. Of course, that was before Esther's cruel spell that not only destroyed all of Caroline's memories of their time together, but also seemed to have removed all traces of his initial arrival in town from the other residents' recollections.
Klaus realized that Caroline had stopped abruptly in front of a canvas full of vibrant greenery. Gray eyes widening, he instantly recognized the delicate, fine-tipped brush strokes that outlined each leaf and blade of grass that lovingly framed the rough-hewn beams of a log cabin. Caroline's log cabin. The one that she didn't remember taking him to.