Page 5 of Never Been Gargoyled
My clothes fell into a heap as quickly as I stripped them. Steam kissed my skin as I eased into the water, careful not to splash anything onto the floor since I’d have to clean it up. Heat swallowed me whole. Bubbles frothing to my chin, I tilted my head back, wineglass in hand, and sighed out something that sounded like a purr. All the tension in my body melted into the water.
I was warm. I was safe. I was the queen of this ruined castle. I’d order a crown off Amazon in the morning.
“Cheers, Great Aunt Helga,” I said, raising the glass into the air. I swiped away one more tear for my beloved relative who’d died much too young. “Thank you for the fresh start.”
The tub fit me perfectly, like it had been waiting.
I turned the page in my book, took another sip of wine, and let the old house begin to love me back.
Chapter 4
Feydin
Afemalehad broken into my home—my home! —through the parlor window like a petty thief. What was her plan, her motive? Vandalism?
I should’ve scared her off the instant she touched the front door. She’d worked on the lock, which had valiantly held, then resorted to raiding the shed for tools and brutally assaulted the front parlor window.
If I’d been thinking correctly, and not trying to find my wits after being rudely awakened from a long sleep, I would’ve dropped down from the eave like a stone, landed on the front steps’ banister, hissed something to make her scream and run. That’s what I used to do. That’s what I was supposed to do.
Instead, I crouched in the shadow of an oak tree older than me, my wings pulled tight across my back. Watching like I was the trespasser, not her.
When she dove inside, I flew tothe porch and discreetly peered in through the broken window. She stood in place, her hands on her hips like she owned the building. Dirty footwear. Disheveled clothing. Windblown hair the color of a ripe sunset. As she peered around, no doubt trying to decide what she should rob or destroy, her nose wrinkled. She sneezed.
And she smiled. A real one. Full of teeth. Full of joy and…
My heart surged up into my throat.
Hells. What was that all about?
As if she thought she belonged here, she strode around the room, tugging away thick dusty cloths covering the furniture Helga had carefully selected. She dared to touch the walls. Pat the carved banister. She talked to herself under her breath as if the house was going to answer back. I trailed her from window to window as she explored the first floor, keeping my footsteps as silent as moss growing in a crypt. When she disappeared into the basement, I shifted back to the front of the building and waited.
She wasn’t gone long. The lights snapped on with a loud click I felt in my chest. Now the old manor house glowed like it had blood again.
She returned to the first floor with that incessant smile still on her face and a bounce in her step, humming under her breath, her hips swaying in time. Her curves were impossible to ignore. Thick thighs. A nice, soft belly. She wasn’t delicate. She was lush and indescribably beautiful.
Hells.
When she climbed the main staircase, I followed on the outside, clinging to the cracks between the slabs of stone as I scaled the exterior wall. I was unable to hold myself back. On the next level, she meandered around, poking her head inside each bedroom until her smile bloomed once more.
“This will do nicely,” she said with a happy sigh.
Why did she plan to stay and not rob or destroy things?
I clung to the wall, peering through the dingy window as she made the bed with fresh linens from the closet. She threw herself onto the task, finishing with a triumphant grunt and a wiggle, like a kitten playing in sunbeams. Her laughter floated through the night. She’d cracked the windows open enough to let her scent drift out, something floral and wild.
I even watched as she uncovered the rest of the furniture, lovingly stroking the antique bureaus. Theywerenice pieces. I’d congratulated Helga on the find when she brought them back from an antique auction many years ago.
This female may appreciate old furnishings, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t here with a nefarious purpose. I continued to watch her as she cleaned out the ancient claw-foot tub. As she dumped pink liquid into the gushing water. As she collected a wineglass from the kitchen and set her electronic device and a full bottle of wine beside the tub.
I remained to make sure she didn’t cause damage.Yes. That was the reason. It was my solemn duty as guardian of this estate to ensure no one destroyed the hard work Helga had put into it.
Then she kicked off her shoes and removed her stockings.
I gripped the edge of the gutter so tight a flake of wood peeled off.
She tugged her shirt over her head with a soft groan, revealing pale skin and the curve of her full, soft belly. Who in all hells wore a red lace bra? Red. Lace. A shout of color on her generous chest, rounded and plump and so damn glorious it made my teeth ache.
She was built like a woman from a painting of long ago. No, even better. Ripe and lush and exactly what a gargoyle like me might crave if he thought about being with someone.
