She felt like a child with hundreds and hundreds of brightly wrapped presents waiting to be opened and explored. “You can teach me more.”

“Aye.” Understanding something of what was racing through her, he flicked a finger down her cheek. “I can. I will. But not just now. We’ve been here more than an hour, and I want my breakfast.”

“An hour.” She blinked as he rose and hauled her to her feet. “It seems like just a few minutes.”

“It took you a while to get down to things. It won’t take you so long the next time.” With a thought, he put out the fire. “We’ll see if we can find where your talents lie once I’ve had my meal.”

“Liam.” She turned to him for a moment, pressed her lips to his throat. “Thank you.”

*  *  *

She learned fast. Liam had never considered himself a good teacher, but he supposed it had something to do with the student.

This one was open and eager and quick.

It didn’t take long to determine that her talents channeled into magic, as Morgana’s did. Within a day or two, they determined she had no real gift for seeing. She could give him her thoughts, but could read his clearly only if he put them into her head.

And while she couldn’t, even after more than an hour of sweaty concentration, transform herself, she turned a footstool into a rosebush with laughing delight.

Show her the joy, Ana had told him. But he understood that she was showing him as she danced around the clearing, turning the early-summer flowers into a maze of color and shape. Rocks became jewel-colored crystals; infant blooms exploded into huge fireworks of brilliant hues. The little stream rose into an elegant waterfall of luminous blue.

He didn’t rein her in. She deserved to ride on the wonder of it. Responsibilities, choices, he knew, would come soon enough.

She was creating her own fairy tale. It was so easy all at once to see it perfectly in her mind. And, in seeing it, to make it real. Here was her little cottage in the forest, with the stunning witch garden spread out, the sweep of water rising, the whip of the wind blowing free.

And the man.

She turned, unaware how devastating she looked just then with her hair streaming, glossy and wild, her arms flung out and the light of young power in her eyes.

“Just for today. I know it can’t stay like this, but just for today. I used to dream of being in a place just like this, with water and wind rushing, and flowers so huge and bright they dazzled your eyes. And the scent of them …”