Page 52 of To Spark a Dragon's Love
My talons gripped the window ledge as I looked over my shoulder, ignoring the tug in my chest for just a second to say my piece to Kieran. “Make sure Willow gets settled in all right. Give her anything else she or Harper needs.”
19
Willow
Princess Treatment
“Don’t jump on the bed,” I told Harper.
She landed in a sitting position. “Why not? This thing is as big as a trampoline.”
“Because…” My voice trailed off as I looked around the room. The giant walnut bed with its rumpled black duvet and red stitching matched the wall décor and five-piece furniture set. She was right. Everything in here was oversized.
And expensive.
“Because it’s not ours and we don’t want to break it,” I said.
“But Malachy told me this could be my room.” Harper brushed the wild strands of static coated hair from her eyes. “He said we could have whatever we wanted.”
I was still a little peeved he’d told a child that.
“For a while, yes.” I hated that look of confusion on her face. She’d been born into a world of chaos. Her father had died. I’d dragged her away from the only home she’d ever known, and then I’d done it again.
Kids are adaptable,I reminded myself.
But how much did it take to break them?
“Please can I jump just a little bit more? I promise I’ll be careful.” She pressed her hands together and stuck out her bottom lip.
Dang those puppy eyes.
“Fine,” I said in my sternest mom voice, pretending that I totally didn’t just fold in two seconds. “Don’t jump too high.”
Once she’d tired herself out, I left a movie on the television and headed downstairs in my pajamas to find something to settle my stomach.
It was all knotted up and I kept feeling sick for no reason. I probably needed sleep more than sugar. It was going to be a long night getting kneed in the face by my bony-limbed daughter.
True, there were no shortage of rooms in what looked to be a converted old ski-lodge that was well out of my tax bracket, but I felt better sleeping with Harper after theincidentthe other night.
Miss Grace couldn’t be too far away either. Her silvery dragon scales glinted in the moonlight as she lowered her massive blue eye to the window of the hallway that lined the second floor.
“She’s okay. You can go to sleep,” I called out.
Miss Grace’s dragon shook her huge head.
That poor woman was like an overeager guard-dog since the MacAlisters had taken Harper.
I can’t say that I blamed her.
But I needed to talk some sense into her before she hurt herself by worrying so much.
The grand staircase led to the foyer and reception room with the massive fireplace and lounging couches. A more intimate parlor with a library was tucked to the side. Then there was a formal dining/recreation/ball room of sorts before the back hall led to the kitchen.
We’d eaten dinner in there at the stools on the bar counter. I preferred the coziness of that space. Stress-baking was one of my life savers so I always appreciated a well-done kitchen—even if I could never afford something so beautiful myself.
The back doors would lead outside to the porch and just beyond it was the woods where Miss Grace was wearing a ravine in the ground with her heavy claws and pacing. She needed to lie down.
A wave of dizziness hit me.
