Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 70779 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 354(@200wpm)___ 283(@250wpm)___ 236(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70779 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 354(@200wpm)___ 283(@250wpm)___ 236(@300wpm)
“Look, it’s not you, it’s me,” I told him. “I just don’t trust men. I’m sorry.”
Then I got angry with myself for apologizing—I shouldn’t care about his feelings. I didn’t know him—I had never met him before he’d come to life and declared himself my “protector.” I had every right to deny him entrance to the place I was going to sleep. I would be vulnerable—especially to a magical being who was twice my size. How dare he demand entrance ten minutes after he’d met me?
I waited to hear his answer with all those angry, scared thoughts in my head, ready to spill out of my mouth if he protested again.
But the huge gargoyle only nodded.
“I understand,” he murmured. “A male hurt you and now you fear to trust another.”
“Well…something like that.” I cleared my throat and looked back at Goody Albright. She hadn’t said anything but she’d been watching our exchange closely. Behind her horn-rimmed glasses, her sharp eyes gleamed with interest.
“Well, since you’ve settled your sleeping arrangements, let me show you the Flower Bower’s amenities, my dear,” she said to me.
“Oh, thank you.” I nodded and followed her into the tiny cottage, letting the door shut in Kael’s face.
8
WILLOW
To the big gargoyle’s credit, he didn’t try to follow us. I caught a glimpse of his broad back through the front window. He looked like he was just standing there. Was he intending on staying outside all night? The thought made me feel uneasy. Were the locks on this cottage strong enough in case he decided to break in during the middle of the night?
“Er, Goody Albright?” I said tentatively. “I hope you don’t mind but I have a question about the locks…”
“Don’t worry my dear—no one may enter unless you invite them in,” she said, giving me a knowing smile. “Not that Kael would come in unless you asked him to—even without the magical wards on the door, you are perfectly safe with him.”
“I am?” I shook my head. Why did I even care? It wasn’t like I was ever going to see him again. I was not accepting some strange gargoyle as my new “protector.” Besides, he would probably just get bored and wander off in the night after he realized I really wasn’t letting him in. Let him find some other woman to bother.
“You are safe with him. Kael is bound by the power of the Almighty to serve and protect women—especially the one woman who holds the key to his lock,” she told me. “He was an angel to begin with, you know—it was only after The Fall, when a third of the Heavenly Army defected to Lucifer and were punished for their betrayal, that he gained his demonic or gargoyle form.”
“So…he’s a fallen angel?” I asked, frowning.
She nodded.
“Essentially, yes. And his punishment is to protect and serve women—which most males would hate. But in Kael’s case, I think he rather likes it.” She winked at me gravely and then turned to go further into the cottage. “Come with me—let me show you around.”
The Flower Bower cottage turned out to be much larger on the inside than I would have believed. There was a quaint country kitchen with a deep stone sink and a kitchen island made of the same sandy brown stone. A kitchen nook beside it held a small wooden table and two chairs right by a window, which I knew would let in lots of natural light.
The kitchen area led into a living room with a fireplace, a loveseat, and two overstuffed armchairs perfect for reading or just dozing by the fire. There were two bookshelves on either side of the fire and when I glanced at the spines of the books, I saw several titles I had read—mostly mysteries. I love whodunits.
Then Goody Albright led me upstairs—though I could have sworn the cottage was only a single story structure. The top of the landing led into a bathroom with a massive, claw-foot tub I immediately wanted to try. The tub in my little apartment back home was so shallow and short that parts of me—mainly my boobs and my knees—always stuck out of the water and got cold. The claw foot monstrosity looked deep enough for me to sink into it up to my neck.
The bedroom was large and comfortable with a queen-sized bed at one end and another fireplace on the other. The bay window had been made into a reading nook with several plush cushions and another shelf built into the wall, which was stuffed with more mysteries and a few romance novels of the bodice ripper variety.
That was another genre I loved—give me an open-door love scene every time. I hate when the hero and heroine are just getting together and then one chapter ends and the next chapter starts, “The next morning…” It feels like being cheated, especially after all that build-up.