He didn’t know if it was because she carried his child or simply because she transformed every space she entered with her presence, but her magic was working already, her wide-eyed wonder at his creation finally proving his youthful idealism right.
His creation could become a home.
The glass entry doors slid open silently, admitting her like a temple goddess, the movement of air their motion caused strangely worshipful.
They strolled down hallways that appeared to be open air but were truly cleverly laid-out indoor spaces, perfectly climate-controlled in a way a stroll through the surrounding hillsides would never be, and she trailed her fingertips delicately along the gleaming wooden handrails while gazing at the outer world. He felt her touch as if she caressed his skin rather than his design.
Did she appreciate that he had made nature into a performance? Did she know that he had never invited anyone into his private project until her, that she was the sole audience he had intended to impress without ever knowing? He only realized it himself now.
He led her to the bedroom that was nearest to his office—near enough that he would hear her if she needed anything.
“I thought you would like this room.”
It took her a moment of looking inside, mouth slightly ajar, before she turned back to him. “Thank you. We never talked about—”
He shook his head, anticipating her concern. “My room is in another part of the house. My office, however, is next door should you need anything. I’m in there most often.”
“About the baby—”
“Tomorrow,” he forestalled her. “When we’re fresh. Make yourself comfortable. There’s a private bathroom adjacent.”
She looked at him, brown eyes serious, and opened her mouth as if she wanted to say something but then closed it with a shake of her head. “Thank you. Good night, Sebastian.”
He tried to stick this image of her in his mind, as she was now, a lovely woman in a virginal nightgown, as opposed to the version of her performing erotic dances that had filled it as of late. Her proximity would be a challenge but perhaps in easing into a daily routine with her, one populated with encounters comprised of mundane pleasantries and virginal nightgowns, he could conquer the dangerous desire. “Good night, Jenna.”
Leaving her there to settle in, he made his way to his office. Along the way, he passed the high wall of family portraits.
Comfort, aesthetics and a grudge against his parents might have motivated his youthful renovation of the homestead, but beyond that, he didn’t bear any ill will toward his family history.
He was proud of it, in fact.
He certainly appreciated the fact that it made him rich.
Despite the renovation, he had saved the paintings and various heirlooms, even going so far as to preserve a stained-glass window from the oldest portion of the original structure.
The design of the window was simple and lovely, a white lily at its focal point, the petals of which were shapes cut from three types of glass—an opaque white, a mottled and sparkling translucent, and a softly transparent ivory. Brassy burned-orange glass for a stamen and pale sage for the leaves completed the image, which was surrounded and framed by an array of assorted translucent blues and greens.
It was the cliff lily of his family crest, and the first stained-glass window ever brought to the island of Cyrano, even before the island had become a unified nation. The Redcliff family was a part of Cyrano’s history, at least as much as the royal family and its relations. His family had been the spark and ember of what would later become a rich and artistic cultural tradition.
Sebastian had studied stained glass for months, practicing restoration techniques on the rose in the d’Tierrza library before he dared preserve and move the Redcliff lily. It was one of the reasons that he had become so familiar with the d’Tierrza library in the first place. Why it was his most treasured location for meetings in the capital.
At the thought of the library, his mind, of course, turned to Jenna.
It seemed all roads led to Jenna and the child she carried, no matter what direction he turned.
It was fortunate, then, that he had the power to redraw the map so that every one of them ended where he wanted.