Page 30 of Taken in the Tree Farm
"Where's the fun in that?"
She laughs, the sound warm and content. We've been like this for the past hour—eating cranberry croissants, drinking spiked hot chocolate, watching the snow fall. Just existing together in the aftermath of intensity.
This is my favorite part, honestly. Not the chase or the capture or even the claiming—though those are incredible. But this. The quiet morning after, when the game is over and we're just us again. When I get to see her satisfied and happy and completely at ease.
"I still can't believe you built all this," she says, gesturing at the window. "An entire Christmas tree farm. For one night."
"Not just one night." I kiss the top of her head. "We can come back whenever you want. Play different scenarios. Try new things."
Her eyes light up. "Really?"
"It's ours, Sera. I didn't build this just to use it once." I pull her into my lap properly. "Maybe next time I give you a bigger head start. Or maybe I catch you faster. Whatever you want."
"Whatever I want," she echoes, her fingers tracing patterns on my chest. "You spoil me."
"Damn right I do." I tilt her chin up so I can see her face. "You're my wife. Spoiling you is my job."
She melts into me, and we sit like that for a while, the fire crackling, the snow falling, the world reduced to just the two of us in this moment. Her body fits perfectly against mine, like she was designed specifically for me to hold.
We fall into comfortable silence, and I can see her mind working. She gets this look when she's thinking hard about something—her eyes go a bit distant, her lips press together slightly.
"What are you plotting in that beautiful head of yours?" I ask.
"Not plotting. Just..." She grins. "Marveling. The tree farm exceeded every fantasy I had. Everything was perfect."
Pride warms my chest. I spent months planning this, obsessing over details, making sure every element would land exactly right. Hearing her say it worked, that it exceeded her expectations, makes every hour of planning worth it.
"I'm glad." I press a kiss to her temple. "You deserve to have your fantasies fulfilled exactly the way you imagined them."
"Better than I imagined them," she corrects. Then she gets that teasing look, the one that always means trouble. "Which makes me wonder..."
"Uh oh."
"I can’t wait to see how you top this for Valentine's Day. Give me a hint. Just onetinyhint."
I consider for a moment, then lean in close, my lips brushing her ear. "Let's just say that by the time February is over, you're going to understand why I chose a place with wine cellars. And why the villa has so many private rooms. And why I've been working with a very specific design team to make certain... modifications."
She pulls back to look at me, her pupils dilating. "Modifications?"
"Nothing that would ruin the historic integrity of the property," I assure her. "But let's just say that a 1920s villa has a lot of potential for someone with the right imagination."
"You're killing me."
"Good." I kiss her neck, right over one of the marks I left last night. "I want you thinking about it. Wondering what I have planned. Getting yourself worked up imagining all the possibilities."
"That's cruel."
"Perhaps, but you love it."
She's quiet for a moment, and I can see her mind racing through possibilities. I love watching her like this—trying to figure out the puzzle, piece together clues I've deliberately scattered.
"Is it another hunt?" she asks finally.
"I'm not answering that."
"Something with wine?"
"Seraphina."
