tattered shields hanging on hooks on the wall, all askew.
Leaning against the leprous trunk of an improbable tree, Florien fished a toothpick out of his tattered trews and stuck it in his mouth.
“Alone,” said Prue.
The boy’s brows drew together. “Why?”
Because what I decide to do tonight will change my life. And I’m scared. “Never mind why.”
“But I sed t’ Erik I’d bring ye.” His sharp features grew pinched with worry.
“Don’t worry, I’ll find him. Promise.”
The child’s extravagant lashes swept down, then up. He had the most beautiful eyes, dark as Concordian chocolat. “Kin we shake ’ands?”
“Shake—Yes, of course, but why?”
“ ’Cos then ye ’ave t’ do it. On yer honor.” His skinny chest expanded. “Erik tol’ me.”
“Oh.” Prue’s heart gave the strangest little skip. “Show me which is his door before you go.” She extended her hand.
His pale cheeks flooding with color, Florien shook his head. “Nah,” he said, whipping his right hand behind his back. Clearly holding his breath, he offered his left.
Gravely, Prue shook it, the small fingers like a bundle of thin winter twigs in her grasp. “There,” she said. “My solemn promise.”
“Yah.” His good humor restored, Florien paused in the doorway. “Back t’ way we come, left an’ then third on t’ right.” He disappeared around the corner.
Behind the ship was a tall, freestanding swing, the upper part of its frame embellished with garlands of limp paper flowers. Slowly, Prue walked toward it, her skirts stirring up little eddies of dust.
It wasn’t as if she was incapable of taking a risk. By going into partnership with Rose and purchasing The Garden, she’d gambled with Katrin’s future as well as her own. Nonetheless, she’d left as little to chance as possible. By the time the decision was made, she and Rose knew everything there was to know about The Garden and how it operated.
With one hand, she set the seat swinging, testing the strength of the old timbers. Satisfied, she gathered up her skirts and sat, studying the toes of her evening slippers as she swayed gently to and fro.
What did she know of Erik Thorensen? Almost nothing—except he made her ache and burn for things she hardly understood. As clearly as if he stood before her in the gloom, she saw his delightful smile in all its incarnations, a spectrum he seemed able to range at will, from dazzling to apparently genuine, innocent to downright wicked.
Chavis had never had Erik’s lightness of touch, let alone his intelligence, but his smile had been just the same—an expression of complicity, one that promised a warmth that never came. Godsdammit, what was wrong with her? She thought she’d learned that lesson. There must be some inherent flaw in her personality, a weakness for sunny blue eyes and guileless smiles, for a man who could make her laugh.
Prue massaged her aching temples. If her only gift was balancing the books, then that’s what she’d do—assess the risks and make a rational decision.
What did she really want? Lifting her head, she stared blankly at the shields on the wall.
Yes, she wanted Erik—the pleasure of being encompassed, enveloped by his uncompromising masculinity. Her breath hitched. Gods, she wanted so desperately to be taken over, filled and fucked ’til she screamed aloud with the wanton joy of it. She’d never experienced that degree of abandon, but she knew, without a doubt, Erik could give it to her. And in return? In that Magickal chamber inside the Leaf of Pleasures, the taste of her most intimate flesh had brought him to climax. As he’d emerged from the water to burn her with his gaze, she’d felt the heady power of her femininity, a balm after the way he’d set her aside the night before.
Her hands clenched hard on the ropes of the swing. She was tingling all over, breathing hard. Prue’s lips quirked in a wry smile. The poets had it right. Desire was definitely a kind of insanity. All right, put physical pleasure on the plus side of the ledger. What else?
She liked him.
Prue frowned. She hadn’t expected that. He’d sneaked past her defenses with his easy undemanding company, the cunning way he ambushed her with humor. She admired his quick wits and determination as much as that fabulous voice. And there was more. Erik hadn’t made hasty judgments about Prue McGuire the way most people did. In the strangest way, she felt she was safe with him.
She worried at her bottom lip.
Now that was an interesting thought. He didn’t seem to care