by Nora Roberts
“I keep meaning to show you this particular room.” Rowena stopped in front of a double pocket door, swept it open.
And ushered Dana into a book lover’s version of heaven.
It was a two-level library, with a lovely ornate rail encircling the second level. A fire was snapping away in a hearth of rosy granite, its light, and the light from a dozen lamps, glittering on the polished wood of the floor.
High above, a mural was painted on the domed ceiling. She saw dozens of figures from the most romantic of faerie tales. Rapunzel, spilling her golden hair out of a tower, Sleeping Beauty just wakened by a kiss, Cinderella slipping her foot into a delicate glass slipper.
“It’s incredible,” Dana whispered. “Beyond incredible.”
Wide, deep chairs, long, deep sofas were done in leather the color of good port. There were other small treasures in tables, in rugs, in art, but Dana was dazzled by the books. Hundreds, perhaps thousands, of books.
“I knew you would enjoy it,” Rowena said on a peal of laughter. “You look as though you’re about to be well pleasured by a particularly skillful lover.”
“You know, I have to be impressed by your being a god and all that sort of thing. But this goes way over the top. I bow to you.”
Delighted, Rowena perched on the arm of a chair. “When Malory completed her quest, I offered her a gift of her choosing. Any boon that was in my power to grant. I offer you the same now.”
“We made a deal. We both kept our part of it.”
“So she said, or something close enough to the same. I gave her the portrait she’d painted while Kane held her. It seemed to please her. I’d like to offer you these books, all that’s in this room. I hope that will please you when you’re mistress of this place.”
“All of them?”
“Yes, all,” she said with another laugh. “And all inside this room. Will you accept?”
“You don’t have to twist my arm. Thank you.” She moved toward one of the shelves, then stopped herself. “No, if I get started, I won’t get out of here for the next two or three years. I’ll take very good care of them. I’ll treasure this room,” Dana told her. “And everything in it.”
“I know you will. Now, let your man take you home. Let him cherish you tonight, as he wants to.”
“I can do that. You already gave me a gift,” she said as they walked out of the room. “You gave him back to me.”
“You took him back. That’s entirely different.” She paused when they reached the door to the portrait room. “He’s very handsome, your warrior.”
“Yeah.” She studied him, watched the way he turned his head, the way his eyes met hers, held hers while he slowly smiled.
“See that look there?” she murmured to Rowena. “That’s the one that turns me to jelly. If he knew that, he’d use it on me every time he wanted his way.”
WHAT were you and Rowena grinning about when you came back in?” Jordan asked.
“That’s our little secret.” Instead of opening the car door, she walked past it, then turned to look back at the Peak. “It’s going to be ours. I’m still trying to get my head around that. We’re going to live here, Jordan.”
He moved behind her, wrapped his arms around her waist and drew her to him. “We’ll be happy here. The house wants happiness.”
On a sigh, she tilted her head, pressed her lips to his cheek. “I’m already happy.”
They drove away from the Peak, and neither saw the cloaked figure standing on the parapet under the thin light of the crescent moon.
She watched them go. She wished them well.
And turned when her warrior touched her shoulder. Pressing her cheek to his heart, she wept a little for what was, and for what might be.
