Page 29 of Enchanted
In the dark, with the half-moon spilling delicate light through her open windows, she woke alone. She burrowed into the pillows and listened with her heart aching to the sound of the wolf calling to the night.
Chapter 6
Rowan watched spring burst into life. And, watching, it seemed something burst into life inside her as well. Daffodils and windflowers shimmered into bloom. The little pear tree outside the kitchen window opened its delicate white blossoms and danced in the wind.
Deep in the forest, the wild azaleas began to show hints of pink and white, and the foxglove grew fat buds. There were others, so many others; she promised herself a book on local wildflowers on her next trip into town. She wanted to know them, learn their habits and their names.
All the while she felt herself begin to bloom. Was there more color in her face? she wondered, more light in her eyes? She knew she smiled more often, enjoyed the sensation of feeling her own lips curve up for no particular reason as she walked or sketched or simply sat on the porch in the warming air to read for hours.
Nights no longer seemed lonely. When the wolf came, she talked to him about whatever was on her mind. When he didn’t, she was content to spend her evening alone.
She wasn’t entirely sure what was different, only that something was. And that there were other, bigger changes yet to come.
Maybe it was the decision she’d made not to go back to San Francisco, or to teaching, or the practical apartment minutes from her parents’ home.
She’d been cautious with money, she reminded herself. She’d never felt any particular urge to collect things or fill her closet with clothes or take elaborate vacations. Added to that was the small inheritance that had come down to her through her mother’s family. One she had cautiously invested and watched grow neatly over the last few years.
There was enough to draw on for a down payment for a little house somewhere.
Somewhere quiet and beautiful, she thought now as she stood on the front porch with a cup of steaming coffee to welcome another morning. It had to be a house, she knew. No more apartment living. And somewhere in the country. She wasn’t going to be happy in the bustle and rush of the city ever again. She’d have a garden she planted herself—once she learned how—and maybe a little creek or pond.
It had to be close enough to the sea that she could walk to it, hear its song at night as she drifted toward sleep.
Maybe, just maybe, on that next trip to town she’d visit a Realtor. Just to see what was available.
It was such a big step—choosing a spot, buying a house—furnishing it, maintaining it. She caught herself winding the tip of her braid around her finger and deliberately dropped her hand. She was ready to make that step. Shewouldmake it.
And she’d find work, the kind that satisfied her. She didn’t need a great deal of money. She’d be blissfully content puttering around some little cottage of her own, doing the painting, the repairs, watching her garden grow.
If she found something nearby, she wouldn’t have to leave the wolf.
Or Liam.
With that thought, she shook her head. No, she couldn’t add Liam into the equation, or make him part of the reason she was considering settling in the area. He was his own man, and would come and go when and where he pleased.
Just like the wolf, she realized, and sighed. Neither one of them was hers, after all. They were both loners, both beautiful creatures who belonged to no one. And who’d come into her life—helped change it in some ways, she supposed. Though the biggest changes were up to her.
It seemed that after three weeks in the little cabin in the clearing, she was ready to make them. Not just drifting anymore, she thought. Not just wondering. Time to take definite steps.
The subtle tug at her mind had her eyes narrowing, her head angling as if to hear something soft whispered in the distance. It was almost as if she could hear her name, quietly called.
He’d said to come to him, she remembered. That she’d know when the time was right. Well, there was no time like the present, no better time than when she was in such a decisive mood. And after the visit, she’d drive into town and see that Realtor.
***
He knew she was coming. He’d been careful to keep his contact with her limited over the past several days. Perhaps he hadn’t been able to stay away completely. He did worry about her just a bit, thinking of her alone and more out of her element than she knew.
But it was easy enough to check up on her, to walk to her door and have her open it for him. He could hardly deny he enjoyed the way she welcomed him, bending down to stroke his head and back or nuzzle her face against his throat.
She had no fear of the wolf, he mused. He made her wary only when he was a man.
But she was coming to the man, and would have to deal with him. He thought his plan a good one, for both of them. One that would give her the opportunity to explore her own talents—and would give each of them time to learn more about the other.
He wouldn’t touch her again until they did. He’d promised himself that. It was too difficult to sample and not take fully. And on those nights he allowed himself to take her with his mind, he left her glowing and satisfied. And left himself oddly unfulfilled.
Still, it was preparing her for him, for the night when he would make those half dreams full reality. For the night when it was his hands and not his mind on her.
The thought of it had his stomach knotting, his muscles bunching tight. Infuriated with the reaction, he ordered his mind to clear, his body to relax. And was only more infuriated when even his powers didn’t calm all the tension.
