eyes, though she wasn't sure if she wept for his pain, or for her own.
The next day,Tracy set about making the house her own. She needed something to do, something to keep her mind from paths she was not ready to travel. On this day, painting was not the answer.
She opened all the windows in the house,then rearranged the furniture in the living room and the dining room, no easy task considering how heavy the pieces were. Her bedroom came next. The physical exertion felt good, freeing somehow.
She paused just after noon for a quick lunch,then went upstairs. She set up the studio to her liking, laying out her paints and brushes, moving the easel here and there until she found just the right place in front of one of the windows. She picked up one of the brushes, and then laid it down again. Perhaps she would paint later, but for now, she wanted to be outside, to smell the earth and the flowers, to see the blue sky.
It was pleasant, walking through the gardens. After a time, she strolled toward the wall, drawn there in spite ofherself . She spent several minutes staring at the gnarled old tree that grew nearest the wall. She was certain she could climb the tree without much trouble, but the wall... was it really electrified? Or was that merely a threat to keep her from trying to leave?
But Dominic St. John didn't seem like the kind of man who would make empty threats and in the end, she decided not to take the risk. And what would be the point? He would only find her again.
Returning to the gardens, she picked a huge bouquet of roses and carried them into the house. She arranged the flowers in a large jar - there were no vases to be found - and placed the jar on the mantel.
Humming softly, she went into the kitchen to fix dinner. She had never liked cooking so her meals tended to be quick and simple, running more to sandwiches and salads than anything else. Tonight it was a ham and cheese sandwich on wheat bread, a green apple cut into quarters, some cottage cheese, and a frosty glass of iced tea.
She felt a growing sense of anticipation as she sat at the table, watching the shadows outside the window grow long. He would be waking soon, rising from wherever it was that he slept away the hours of daylight. Did he ever miss the sun? Was he ever sorry he had accepted the Dark Gift from Kitana ? What was it like, to live for hundreds and hundreds of years, never to be sick,never to grow old? Was it a blessing beyond measure, or a curse without end? Why wouldn't he tell her where he slept? He hadn't kept it a secret from her at home.
Rising, she quickly washed and dried her few dishes and then went outside. The setting sun set the sky aflame as it went down in a blaze of fiery reds and ochre and orange.
She sensed his presence behind her and when she turned, he was standing there.
For stretched seconds, they stared at each other, and then Dominic held out his hand. Without hesitation,Tracy put her hand in his. As if by prearrangement, they turned and walked along the path that led through the gardens.
"How was your day?" he asked.
She shrugged."Fine. I spent most of it rearranging the furniture. I hope you don't mind."
"Of course not.My house, like my life, is yours."
She wasn't ready to hear that just yet and because she couldn't think of anything else to say, she asked, "How was your day?"
He looked down at her, one brow arched in wry amusement. "Quiet."
Tracygrinned. "It must be lonely, sleeping alone all the time."
"You could change that."
She stared at him. "You aren't suggesting that I..." She swallowed hard. "That I sleep beside you during the day?" The thought of lying next to his cold, unmoving body sent a chill down her spine.
"Of course not.But if you would accept the Dark Gift, we could sleep away our days together."
He stopped walking and drew her into his arms. "Do you know how often I have yearned to succumb to the darkness with you beside me? How often I have wished to wake with you in my arms?" His hand stroked her cheek. "How oft I have wished that your face would be the last thing I see at daybreak and the first at the moon's