e steps to the lawn, I take
off my shoes. The half-moon shines brightly over the bay.
It’s brilliant, casting everything in myriad of shades of gray
as the lights of Seattle twinkle sweetly in the distance. The
lights of the boathouse are on, a soft glowing beacon in the
lights of the boathouse are on, a soft glowing beacon in the
cool cast of the moon.
“Christian, I’d like to go to church tomorrow.”
“Oh?”
“I prayed you’d come back alive and you did. It’s the
least I could do.”
“Okay.”
We wander hand in hand in a relaxed silence for a few
moments. Then something occurs to me.
“Where are you going to put the photos José took of
me?”
“I thought we might put them in the new house.”
“You bought it?”
He stops to stare at me, and his voice full of concern.
“Yes. I thought you liked it.”
“I do. When did you buy it?”
“Yesterday morning. Now we need to decide what to
do with it,” he murmurs, relieved.
“Don’t knock it down. Please. It’s such a lovely house.
It just needs some tender loving care.”
Christian glances at me and smiles. “Okay. I’ll talk to
Elliot. He knows a good architect; she did some work on
my place is Aspen. He can do the remodeling.”
I snort, suddenly remembering the last time we crossed
the lawn under the moonlight to the boathouse. Oh,
perhaps that’s what we’re going to do now. I grin.
“What?”
“I remember the last time you took me to the
boathouse.”
Christian chuckles quietly. “Oh, that was fun. In
fact . . .” He suddenly stops and scoops me over his
shoulder, and I squeal, though we don’t ha一ve far to go.
“You were really angry, if I remember correctly,” I
gasp.
“Anastasia, I’m always really angry.”
“No you’re not.”
He swats my behind as he stops outside the wooden
door. He slides me down his body back to the ground and
takes my head in his hands.
“No, not anymore.” Leaning down, he kisses me, hard.
“No, not anymore.” Leaning down, he kisses me, hard.
When he pulls away, I’m breathless and desire is racing
round my body.
He gazes down at me, and in the gl
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