Page 19 of Stolen By the Demon

“I don’t know why, but whenever I came to a new place, I bought something for you and put it in here.”

His voice startled me from behind. I hadn’t even heard him come in.

“Devon.”

“This dress,” he pulled a white garment down that would only cover my legs to my knees. “I bought in Paris. Thinking how lovely you would look in it and wishing it was you and me walking down the streets.”

I leaned into him as he hung the dress back up, watching him pull out a thick looking shirt next, “This is a sweater. I bought it in New York forty years ago,” he laughed, “I guess by now it would be considered vintage.”

“This purse,” he held up a large olive-colored leather satchel printed with initials LV. “I got in London for you.”

“And here,” he opened two small doors built into the wall. “These are all for you.”

Breathless, I stared at the largest jewelry collection I could have ever imagined seeing. Not even the jeweler in our town had had these many rings, bracelets, necklaces, earrings, and things I had never even seen before.

“You did all this for me?” I asked.

“Well, there’s more, but I didn’t want to overcrowd your closet,” he laughed derisively.

“But you thought I was dead.” I turned to face him.

“I talked to you too, sometimes,” he said with such a sad expression it knotted my stomach.

I linked my arms around his neck. “I love you.”

He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, “Say it again.”

“I love you.”

A smile tantalized his lips, so I repeated. “I love you.”

With a loud sigh, he pulled me against his chest, holding me so tight I was sure he would have squeezed the breath out of me had I still needed it. “I missed you so much!”

“I thought you had a war council to hold,” I smiled at him.

“I can’t concentrate right now,” he admitted, “I needed to see you.”

I loved hearing that.

“Also,” he admitted, “there are too many blanks still. It would help to know what exactly we are up against, why my father wanted you so badly,” he caught himself, drew his hand through his hair, before he rubbed the back of his neck looking uncomfortable as one could get.

“I mean… of course, I know why he wanted you so badly, you’re the most beautiful woman—”

“Devon,” I said with a sweet smile.

“Blanche?”

“Shut up, I understand.”

“Okay, good.” The look of relief that washed over his face was adorable and had I not already been head over heels with him, that would have done me in.

“I’m ready, but I’ve already tried, but everything is still black except some small snippets that don’t make any sense,” I admitted.

“I have ways… I can make you remember if you’re comfortable with it.”

I stared into his cloudy eyes, and for a moment, I thought I saw little flames dancing in them. It didn’t repulse me, though. Instead, I only felt curiosity. My love for this man grew stronger with every minute we shared, and so did my trust.

“I want to remember what happened to us.” I pushed my chin forward defiantly.

---