Innocent - Roe Horvat Page 0,22

to nature. The surrounding gardens and sprawling park offered privacy and refuge, and the sunroom and atrium allowed plenty of daylight in, even on murky fall afternoons. The living room on the ground floor faced southwest, with one wall made of glass and sliding doors opening onto the patio. He loved to sit there in winter, the glow of the fireplace warming his feet, while snow piled behind the glass.

Even so, he was anxiously watching Navid’s reaction when they drove up to the house. Would Navid like it here? It was so different from the palace he’d grown up in. Sleek modern architecture instead of the four-hundred-year-old Taheri’s palace. Oaks, maples, and pines instead of palm trees, oranges, and aloe. At least the sunroom would remind Navid of home. Zana had it done in a distinct Middle Eastern style with colorful mosaic tiles and massive pots full of exotic plants.

Navid looked through the car window in quiet concentration, and the only thing revealing his excitement was the firm grip of his hand around Zana’s fingers. Navid seemed to have quickly learned to draw comfort from the connection, and Zana was relieved when he’d noticed. Hopefully, Navid felt safe with him.

“We’ve just eaten breakfast, but it’ll be sunset soon,” Navid said.

Zana tore his gaze away from Navid’s profile and squinted into the yellow light low above the trees.

“Yes. The jet lag will be difficult. We shouldn’t sleep except maybe for a short nap. The fastest way to adjust is to push through it and stay awake until tomorrow night.” He ran his other hand over Navid’s arm and to his shoulder. “Aren’t you cold?”

“No. It’s refreshing.”

The car turned onto the circular driveway and stopped. Navid leaned closer to the window, squeezing Zana’s hand in what seemed like an automatic reaction.

“That’s your home?” he asked breathlessly.

“Our home,” Zana corrected.

Navid turned to him. He looked so young with the childlike excitement in his eyes.

“Want to look around?” Zana asked.

Biting his lip, Navid nodded.

“Come on, then.”

Zana instructed his driver to take care of the bags, and they exited the car.

Navid followed Zana through the house with a dazed expression on his face. Zana held his hand and felt every tremor and jolt of surprise. They paused in the sunroom, and Navid looked up at the high ceiling, mouth falling open.

“I have a study upstairs,” Zana said. “But I prefer to be here when I have to work from home.”

The orchids were blooming underneath the tall palm trees, and the entire room seemed to shimmer. The humid air held the distinct scents of a greenhouse—soil, flowers, and wet stone. Navid took a few steps into the middle of the space, and Zana let go of his hand and just watched. His husband looked so happy right then. Grinning, he spun around, touched a giant leaf of a sprawling monstera, and ran his hand over the backrest of the colorful sofa.

“It’s beautiful.”

He ambled over to the glass wall and looked outside.

“Can I see the garden?”

“Of course.” Zana grabbed his hand again. “Come, there’s a door in the living room leading onto the patio.”

The setting sun bathed the trees in a golden sheen. Navid spun in circles, taking everything in, then grinned at Zana with open joy on his face. “It’s so green.”

Zana laughed. Oh yes, they were far away from the desert. Zana hoped Navid wouldn’t hate the winters here.

“Have you ever seen snow?” he asked.

“Only on TV.” Navid bit his lip. “Will there be snow here?”

“Not until late November at the earliest, but yes, Dalton City has a little snow every year.”

The boyish grin was adorable.

“I’ll show you something.” Zana tugged on Navid’s hand.

He led Navid to the edge of the patio, where a small tree grew out of a circle of dark soil. A contented smile stretched Zana’s lips. His gardener had sent him pictures, but now he finally saw it alive. The tree thrived here.

“What is it?”

“It’s a cherry tree. I had it planted a couple of months ago. When I claimed you.” He interlaced his fingers with Navid’s and took a deep breath. “I called my gardener and told him to choose a cherry tree that could withstand the winters, and plant it right here.”

Navid lifted his gaze to Zana. “Why?”

“When I was little, we had a cherry tree in the garden. My omega dad used to read to me sitting on the bench underneath. I remember a pink petal falling onto a book as I sat in his lap, listening.” The