“Another little hideaway of mine,” he announced. “The house lends itself to secrets.”

“Do you have so many that you need so many rooms?”

He laughed. “We’ll see,” he said, and opened the door.

It was just another bedroom.

Lucas was a conspirator, I thought. He had gone ahead and lit the lamps, which burned low, casting an enticing glow over the bed and the thick, white, furry rug in front of the fireplace. It looked like the material I had felt on the swan bed.

On the table beside it was a bottle of lemon-colored liquid and some glasses.

“You’re in for a treat,” he said, smiling.

My heart was pounding. I was lost somewhere in this great house and captured by that smile. It was a little frightening, but even that was something I had sought. Passion without danger seemed incomplete, even false.

He was still holding my hand. His look was more intense.

“You’re even more beautiful here, Corrine, but that’s another proof of Foxworth’s magic. Diamonds twinkle brighter within its grasp. I can feel it,” he said, gazing around. “The house likes you. You glitter in its light. I can only imagine what it would be like to have you here all the time. You’d fall so in love with it I’d be jealous.”

All the time? I thought. Jealous?

If my body wasn’t craving it, I might not have taken a breath.

Chapter 6

After my second glass of his delightful liquid, Garland’s laugh seemed to grow thinner and a little longer every time he did laugh. He had poured me my first glass after he had us lie down in front of the fireplace where he then proceeded to describe his travels in Italy and how he had fallen upon this drink in a small inn near the Amalfi coast. It was like listening to someone spin a tale of wonder and make-believe, and I was a little girl again, willing to be enchanted by his words.

“From my first sip, I knew that this was something very special. I had gone thousands of miles to find it after I heard about it at a dinner in Rome,” he said, making himself sound like Marco Polo. He held his glass up, looking through the yellow liquid as if he was judging fine wine. “This batch is perfect. I’d have never discovered it had I not been enamored of pleasure journeys.”