She’s special. And it’s not only her powers I find alluring. There’s something more.
“I’ll be the one to marry her. That decision is final.” I turn to look out the window of my chambers.
“As you wish,” Viggo says. “I’ll head back downstairs.”
As soon as he leaves, I stare out the window at the vast expanse of greenery that leads to the garden.
That’s when I see her.
Allison.
“Motherfucker.” I head out of the room, onto the balcony, and jump down to land right in front of her. “What are you doing?”
She stops, her eyes as big as saucers. “How did you do that?”
“Do what?”
“How did you end up right in front of me? Did you fly?” She glances around, trying her best to determine which direction I came from.
“I was here the whole time.”
She drags the strap to her bag higher on her shoulder. “Were not.”
“Was so.”
She shakes her head, getting a better grip on the luggage in her hand. “I don’t care. I’m leaving.”
A sharp burst of laughter escapes me. “You’re not.”
“Am too.” She shows me the suitcase in her hand. “I’m all packed and ready to go.”
“You’re not leaving, Allison. We need to get married.”
“I’m not marrying you,” she scoffs. “I’m leaving. You can marry the other woman in there.” She juts her chin in the castle’s direction.
“I’m marrying you, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”
“Oh, there’s something I can do. I can leave.” She tries to move past me, but I don’t let her.
“Allison, don’t make me do this the hard way.”
She stops, her eyes studying me. “What’s the hard way?”
“I pick you up like the petulant child you’re acting like and carry you back into the house.” I cross my arms, wondering what her next move will be.
“That’s kidnapping. I’ll call the cops and have you arrested.”
She’s funny, and a smile crosses my lips. “It’s not kidnapping if I’m trying to save your life.”
Now it’s her turn to laugh at my words. “It is kidnapping if I don’t want to go with you.”
“Kidnapping it is, then.” I scoop her up, her sack landing in her lap, and carry her bride-style to the entrance of the mansion, her luggage hanging in her other hand.
“Put me down,” she yells, squirming to break free. She drops her luggage, using her free hand to punch at my chest. “Put me down, you animal. This is kidnapping. You’ll be going to jail.”
I carry her through the front doors, depositing her on the armchair in the front room. “There,” I say. “I’ve set you down.”
Everyone joins us in the front room, and Simon drops to his knees on the floor in front of the chair, checking to see if she’s ok.