Part 25 (1/2)

She was glad she had talked with the women. They had helped her to understand herself and to remember what love was all about. Now she only needed to confront Dagon, not with demands, for she wanted nothing from him that he did not choose to give. She simply wanted to love him.

In her attempts to solve her problem she had lost her way, misunderstood and misguided herself. She flopped over on her back, staring at the ceiling and the faint light of the bright moon s.h.i.+ning through the window. She had forgotten her own teachings, her own lessons, her own wisdom. In essence she had lost herself, but the beauty of the whole experience was that she was free to once again discover herself, and that was a unique opportunity.

Tomorrow she would seek out Dagon and talk with him. She would not wait any longer-she would once again take charge. She suddenly felt like her old powerful self, and she smiled with a wisdom she had lately ignored.

Tomorrow was a new day, but then, it already was tomorrow. Why wait any longer?

She laughed softly and hopped out of bed, causing Lady Lily to protest with a gentle meow at being disturbed. She thought to dress, but then thought better of it. Dressed in her white flannel nightgown, her dark hair tousled, and her feet covered with slouching white socks, she headed for Dagon's bedroom.

Dagon tossed and turned until he thought he'd go mad with the want of sleep. He didn't want to think. He wanted nothing but pure, uninterrupted, dreamless sleep. And he was getting none of it. Instead his thoughts were driving him insane. He could not get Sarina out of his mind. She haunted his every thought whether waking, resting, or sleeping. She was there, a permanent thought in his mind.

He hadn't even given consideration to the Ancient One. He was actually losing interest in his well-formulated life plans. What he once thought important-a powerful mating and an exceptionally skilled wife-seemed dull and unattractive to him. Chaos had entered his life in the form of a b.u.mbling witch named Sarina, and he wondered if he could ever live without her.

He had once considered his life to be full, yet he didn't know the true meaning of abundance until Sarina.

He grabbed for the pillow beside him and placed it on top of the other pillow beneath his head. If sleep was to elude him, he might as well be comfortable.

His intentions had been to speak with Sarina this evening before he retired, but after his conversation with Sebastian he thought better of it. He needed time to think this through, to better understand what he felt. Besides, he didn't think Sarina would welcome him.

He smiled, recalling how Sydney once told him he had never known true love, and he now could agree with her. Love was a crazy emotion that could not be understood or ever fully grasped. Too often people chased after love when love never ran from them in the first place.

He had chased after it in an attempt to capture its essence when all the while it was right there in front of his eyes, and yet he was too blind to see its beauty. He foolishly thought he could manipulate, plan, and produce love the exact way he wanted it.

Love had other ideas.

He now understood why love was considered the highest of emotions. Love set no limits, asked for no guarantees, love simply was.

And he simply was in love with Sarina. And it felt good, right, perfect. He wanted her in his life permanently. He wondered when it had happened. When had he fallen in love with an unskilled witch who dangled from a chandelier and a window, got stuck in a chimney and a tree, flooded the laundry room with suds, and walked barefoot through the woods?

He laughed softly at the many memories and wondered what other adventures awaited him and wondered if perhaps he had not fallen in love with her the very moment he saw her dangling from his chandelier. Had he failed to pay attention to the obvious? Had he not listened to his own heart, his own emotions when dealing with her?

Last night was a prime example of his disregarding his emotions. He instinctively knew he should not have waited to invite Sarina to partic.i.p.ate in the dinner party. It was his own fault that she was forced to serve, and that could have been avoided as well. One word from him to Bernard, and she would have been released from her duties for the evening. But he foolishly did not pay attention to his instincts. He had allowed her to serve, and naturally chaos prevailed.

Though it still disturbed him that Sydney had been able to right her wrongs. Her powers did exceed his, and perhaps they were substantial enough to deal with Sarina's inadequate skills. He would have to remember to discuss the matter with her.

Right now he was thinking that he needed to talk with Sarina. There was much for them to discuss. And there was much for him to learn and understand about her. He should have summoned her to his study after speaking with Sebastian. Instead he retired to his room to sulk like a spoiled child. When what was necessary was for him to understand and admit how much he loved her.

Admitting his stubborn foolishness was not easy for him to do. He always prided himself on his intelligence, especially his ability to deal with any given situation. He would sense what was necessary and proceed accordingly, but then those situations had never involved him being truly in love.

True love did not play fair.

He drew his hand slowly down his face. He had never felt more frustrated in his whole three hundred years. He was not reacting at all like himself. If he were himself, he would have this whole dilemma settled by now. He would take charge and charge in, and fate be d.a.m.ned, he would succeed.

He sprang up in bed. What was he waiting for? Did he expect fate to intervene and determine the outcome? Or did he intend to be himself and determine his own outcome?

He would do what he did best, take charge. If he could straighten out the mess Ali had gotten herself into over Sebastian, he could certainly handle his own dilemma. And besides, there was no spell involved in this situation. He did not have to concern himself with a time frame or worry about words that could break or seal a spell. He was free to pursue Sarina at his leisure or in haste.

She was young, perhaps barely a hundred years old. There was much he could teach her, and he would be patient with her lessons. Of course, she did possess the gift of sight and a remarkably accurate sight. A worthy skill to pa.s.s on to children.

Children!

He hoped she wanted many for he had always planned on a castle full. He laughed thinking of a daughter with less than adequate skills chasing after Lady Lily, whom she would probably have flying upside down through the air.

He threw the covers off himself and walked naked to the chair where his silver silk robe lay and reached for it. He was tired of waiting. Waiting to talk with Sarina about last night's events, waiting to tell her how much he loved her, waiting to tell her he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her, and waiting to tell her he wanted to make a baby with her as soon as possible. The ultimate act of sealing their love.

With determined strides he marched toward the door and flung it open.

Sarina jumped back startled.

Dagon smiled, stepped back, and waved her in.

Nineteen.

Before her courage could fail her, Sarina rushed into the room, tripping over the hem of her white flannel nightgown, and landing safely in Dagon's arms.

”At least I have you where I want you,” he teased and was about to steal a kiss when she nudged him away from her.

”We must talk.””

”Funny, I was thinking the same thing myself-that's why I was on my way to get you.”

His admission startled her. ”You were coming to my room?”

”Yes,” he confirmed and shut the door. ”It is my castle and I am permitted to go where I please, and it pleased me to talk with you.”

”About this evening?” she asked.

”That among other things.”

Sarina looked to the rumpled bed. It seemed to invite and beckon, she could almost smell the scent of him on the warm sheets, and she very much wanted to slip beneath his covers and lose herself to him. Instead she walked over to the hearth, extending her chilled hands out to the warmth of the welcoming fire.

Dagon followed, though took a seat in the chair not far from where Sarina stood. He sensed her desire. It was palpable but along with it came apprehension, and he wanted her doubt vanquished before they joined together in his bed.

”Where shall we begin, Sarina?” he asked softly and extended his hand out for her to take a seat.

She shook her head. ”No, thank you, I'll stand.”

This time he shook his head. ”Not a good idea. Your nightgown may be flannel, but it is a light flannel, and with the light of the blazing fire s.h.i.+ning on you-” He once again shook his head. ”My imagination only needs to wonder how many ways I will enjoy you. And lets not forget those socks I've warned you about. They will definitely remain on you, the only thing that will remain on you.”

Sarina immediately took a seat in the chair opposite the other end of the hearth from where he sat and crossed her legs and arms.