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The vase I broke when I first began working here. I felt terrible when I realized it was a piece from the reign of James V and a gift at that. I spent hours combing the floor and carpet for every piece, placing them in this tin until my powers were restored and I could then safely restore the vase for you."
"Sarina," he said, reaching out to her, but she pulled back.
"No, this is something that is important to me and that I must do. You have no idea how difficult it was for me without my powers. It wasn't until I came here that things changed and I realized that I could cope if necessary without my energy. After all, I had my sight, not for myself but for others. I learned so much while here-most important, I learned the true meaning of love."
Dagon leaned over the small tin and kissed her. "I'm glad you showed up at my doorstep. But I always wondered why you really chose Rasmus Castle."
Sarina laughed. "Mrs. MacDougal suggested it to me. She had heard that a position was open and I had created havoc at her castle and I think she was trying to get rid of me in the nicest way possible."
"So she gave you a glowing recommendation and went on an extended vacation."
Sarina nodded, still laughing.
"Did she know who your sister was?" he asked, anxious to make all the pieces of the puzzle fit.
She nodded, "I was at my wits' end and Tempest instructed me to go to the MacDougals. I am sure she will be relieved to receive an invitation to our wedding."
"She'll probably take the credit for bringing us together."
"In a way she did," Sarina said. "Now let me demonstrate a small display of my powers."
Dagon looked at her with a gleam of suspicion in his eyes.
"What's wrong?" she asked, surprised by his skeptical response.
He shook his head as if just realizing himself. "I now know how Sebastian feels around Ali-inadequate and vulnerable."
Sarina giggled. "Sebastian does not feel that way. He has powers over Ali that have nothing to do with magic, and he uses them wisely as a witch would."
He leaned toward her, his long dark hair spilling down over his shoulders and his handsome face alight with sensuality. "Are you telling me I have powers over you that surpa.s.s your own?"
She giggled and pushed at his naked chest, stopping his slow advance. "That is a given."
"That is a relief," he teased and stole a quick kiss.
"Don't you want your present?" she asked with a petulant pout.
"Is it the gift you wish to give me or your powers you wish to demonstrate?"
"A little of both," she admitted.
"Dazzle me," he commanded and leaned back against the mound of pillows.
She rubbed her hands together and chewed on her bottom lip in antic.i.p.ation, then with pointed finger she directed the ceramic pieces to take flight and they did. They swirled up in a circle, round and round, searching for the right connection, the right piece to the ma.s.sive puzzle, until in a flourish of wonder and magic the antique vase floated intact in the air before Dagon's eyes.
"I'm impressed," he told her and reached out and carefully took hold of the floral etched vase, placing it on the nightstand beside the bed. He then pulled her into his arms, and she sighed with the pleasure of being wrapped in his warmth and love.
"I am no longer a clumsy witch."
Dagon cupped her face in his hands. "I wouldn't have cared if you destroyed this whole castle as long as no harm ever came to you. I could not imagine a life without you, Sarina. I love you so very much."
She flung herself across him, wanting to throw her arms around his neck and kiss him senseless, but in her haste she misjudged the distance, and her hand sent the newly repaired vase flying through the air to crash into a million pieces on the floor.
She looked at him, stunned speechless, and he began to laugh. "My b.u.mbling witch."
Her laughter joined his, and they spilled into each other's arms, their lips and hands reaching out intimately for each other so they could once again make magic.
t.i.tles by Donna Fletcher.
MAGICAL MEMORIES.
THE IRISH DEVIL.
MAGICAL MOMENTS.
WEDDING SPELL.
WHISPERS ON THE WIND.
THE BUCCANEER.