Wishful thinking. Nora had no doubt.

Søren put the key in the lock and opened the door. He went inside first and turned on the lights for her. Nora followed.

“Wow,” she said as she stepped into the entry hall. On each side of the hall was an arched doorway. To her left was an empty sitting room, empty but for an elegant love seat and an antique wooden music stand.

“Music room?” she asked.

“I believe it’s where my piano is supposed to go,” he said.

To the right was a larger sitting room, a parlor decorated in pale blue paint set off by bright white crown molding and a white fireplace. Gilt-framed winter landscapes hung on the walls. Chestnut leather chaise lounge. A round table with an elaborately carved pedestal and matching chairs. A crystal chandelier.

“He never does anything by halves, does he?” Søren asked.

“If this room were a man, I’d ride its cock until it snapped off.”

Søren raised his chin and looked down at her.

“I’m just saying it’s really nice,” she said. “I like it.”

“Oh, but there’s more…” Søren led her down the central hallway. “Guest bedroom.”

She loved the guest room immediately. A queen canopy bed with diaphanous white curtains hung from the iron frame. A white fireplace, the mantel covered in unlit candles. A leather armchair by the fireplace. A steamer trunk full of secrets at the foot of the bed.

“Simple. Elegant. Great bed for bondage,” she said. “I’ll take it.”

They passed to the next door.

“Formal dining room,” Søren said and flipped on the switch to display the dining table for six—Søren, Kingsley, Juliette, Céleste, and her, plus one guest. Cream damask wallpaper in a fleur-de-lis pattern. An antique China cabinet large enough that the top of it nearly scraped the eight-foot ceiling.

“This is getting ridiculous,” Nora said.

“We’re not even done yet,” Søren said. Down the hall again, next door. “Breakfast room.”

“You have your own room just for eating breakfast?”

“Apparently the kitchen is not good enough for coffee and toast anymore.”

Nora peeked into the room. A smaller version of the dining room with a table only for two. Silver-gray wallpaper and a small sideboard.

“Who’s gonna cook? You or Kingsley?” she asked.

“He does make good crêpes.” Søren led her to the gleaming bright white kitchen. White cabinets. White tile floors. Stainless steel appliances.

“Not bad,” Nora said. “Still doesn’t make me want to learn how to cook though. What’s the backyard like?”

She pointed at the French doors leading out of the kitchen to the backyard.

“Enclosed courtyard,” he said and took her to the door. He hit a lightswitch, and Nora saw a small in-ground swimming pool appear in the dark before Søren flipped the light off again.

“Damn. I’m kind of afraid to ask about the bathroom. I assume there’s an enormous claw-foot bathtub in there, gilt mirrors, and a year’s supply of lube?”

“Not in the hall bathroom, but in the master bath, yes. Let me show you the master bedroom. It’s ludicrous.”