How long would he have to wait? Long enough to
be seduced by the women, the strange food, the hypnotizing music, to want to
remain? “Do what you must to find the blade. It is all I have to prove my
innocence.”
Gwen pressed her face to the window. Both men were as rigid
as soldiers at attention.
“I’m going out there.” She jerked the door open and was
nearly blown off her feet. Vad was at her side in an instant, shoving the door
closed for her. “You’re soaking wet—both of you. Vad’s been ill. He shouldn’t
be out here.” She had to shout over the wind and a low rumble of thunder.
“I am not returning to the festivities,” Vad said. Something
in his tone told her he meant it.
“Okay,” she said. “We’ll all go back to my place, then.” She
pointed to the gleam of light that was her apartment, a couple of blocks away.
Kered shook his head. “I can’t stay. I have to tell Maggie
Vad’s here and have her look for something…at home.”
“Really? Maggie’s not here?” Gwen braced herself for Maggie
to leap out of the shadows and yell “Surprise!”
“That’s right. Vad can fill you in. Now I have to go and
secure something Vad needs for his quest.”
With a sudden turnabout, she smiled and clapped. “You guys
are really good. Superb. Do you do amateur theater back home?”
“We’re not acting,” Kered said.
“Oh, sure. And he’s really Vad.” She swallowed a laugh.
“Yes. He is Vad,” Kered said. “But he’s Nicholas Sandav,
too.”
Chapter Six
Gwen tossed and turned and knotted herself in her sheets.
The fact that the most beautiful man on the East Coast was sleeping on her sofa
bed shouldn’t be keeping her awake, but it was. Her mind kept returning to that
moment when the shower had washed him clean.
“Oh, brother, whoever spiked that punch should be ashamed of
himself. I’m really going to feel it tomorrow.” She threw off the covers, got
out of bed, and turned on a small desk lamp so she could look for a book to
read that would put Sleeping Beauty out of her mind. Far out of her mind. How
she wished Maggie had not gone home. Maggie could be persuaded to tell the
truth.
When would Vad admit he was just a guy playing a role and
not a man tragically pulled into the Tolemac Wars game when he was a
child, as Kered so adamantly claimed? A child thought lost forever. A child
named Nicholas Sandav, whose parents died before learning the truth that their son
had survived—in another world. What incredible imaginations!
Vad’s name also disturbed her sleep. Not as much as his
body, but almost as much. Where had she heard that name before? Nicholas
Sandav…
To be honest, she could not imagine calling him Nick. Vad he
looked like, and Vad he was.
Her fingers danced along a row of books and settled on one
R. Walter had given her the first—and only—Christmas they’d spent together.
After that, he’d spent them all with her sister Pam. Jingle all the way.
The notation inside brought a lump to her throat. For
Gwen, as legendary as any heroine. Oh, sure, she thought. Until he met Pam,
anyway, and broke her heart—a heart that had not healed until she’d met Bob.
She looked at her bare finger. Each night she took off her wedding ring and
placed it in her jewelry box. Each morning she put it back on. Bob would have
laughed at her sentimentality. He was one man who did not believe in dwelling
on the past.
She settled at the desk and thumbed through the book,
flipping here and there at random. The book was beautifully illustrated with
examples of Celtic art. She lost herself in the familiar legends that had
colored her world, inspired her fabric designs, and added so much romantic
mystery to her college years. With delight she pulled the light close,
examining the intricate lines and forms that decorated shields and caldrons,
much like the designs engraved on Vad’s knife. And his ring.
Then she gasped and jumped to her feet, dropping the book.
Sandav
be seduced by the women, the strange food, the hypnotizing music, to want to
remain? “Do what you must to find the blade. It is all I have to prove my
innocence.”
Gwen pressed her face to the window. Both men were as rigid
as soldiers at attention.
“I’m going out there.” She jerked the door open and was
nearly blown off her feet. Vad was at her side in an instant, shoving the door
closed for her. “You’re soaking wet—both of you. Vad’s been ill. He shouldn’t
be out here.” She had to shout over the wind and a low rumble of thunder.
“I am not returning to the festivities,” Vad said. Something
in his tone told her he meant it.
“Okay,” she said. “We’ll all go back to my place, then.” She
pointed to the gleam of light that was her apartment, a couple of blocks away.
Kered shook his head. “I can’t stay. I have to tell Maggie
Vad’s here and have her look for something…at home.”
“Really? Maggie’s not here?” Gwen braced herself for Maggie
to leap out of the shadows and yell “Surprise!”
“That’s right. Vad can fill you in. Now I have to go and
secure something Vad needs for his quest.”
With a sudden turnabout, she smiled and clapped. “You guys
are really good. Superb. Do you do amateur theater back home?”
“We’re not acting,” Kered said.
“Oh, sure. And he’s really Vad.” She swallowed a laugh.
“Yes. He is Vad,” Kered said. “But he’s Nicholas Sandav,
too.”
Chapter Six
Gwen tossed and turned and knotted herself in her sheets.
The fact that the most beautiful man on the East Coast was sleeping on her sofa
bed shouldn’t be keeping her awake, but it was. Her mind kept returning to that
moment when the shower had washed him clean.
“Oh, brother, whoever spiked that punch should be ashamed of
himself. I’m really going to feel it tomorrow.” She threw off the covers, got
out of bed, and turned on a small desk lamp so she could look for a book to
read that would put Sleeping Beauty out of her mind. Far out of her mind. How
she wished Maggie had not gone home. Maggie could be persuaded to tell the
truth.
When would Vad admit he was just a guy playing a role and
not a man tragically pulled into the Tolemac Wars game when he was a
child, as Kered so adamantly claimed? A child thought lost forever. A child
named Nicholas Sandav, whose parents died before learning the truth that their son
had survived—in another world. What incredible imaginations!
Vad’s name also disturbed her sleep. Not as much as his
body, but almost as much. Where had she heard that name before? Nicholas
Sandav…
To be honest, she could not imagine calling him Nick. Vad he
looked like, and Vad he was.
Her fingers danced along a row of books and settled on one
R. Walter had given her the first—and only—Christmas they’d spent together.
After that, he’d spent them all with her sister Pam. Jingle all the way.
The notation inside brought a lump to her throat. For
Gwen, as legendary as any heroine. Oh, sure, she thought. Until he met Pam,
anyway, and broke her heart—a heart that had not healed until she’d met Bob.
She looked at her bare finger. Each night she took off her wedding ring and
placed it in her jewelry box. Each morning she put it back on. Bob would have
laughed at her sentimentality. He was one man who did not believe in dwelling
on the past.
She settled at the desk and thumbed through the book,
flipping here and there at random. The book was beautifully illustrated with
examples of Celtic art. She lost herself in the familiar legends that had
colored her world, inspired her fabric designs, and added so much romantic
mystery to her college years. With delight she pulled the light close,
examining the intricate lines and forms that decorated shields and caldrons,
much like the designs engraved on Vad’s knife. And his ring.
Then she gasped and jumped to her feet, dropping the book.
Sandav
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