“Now we don’t have to,” he echoed, and then scooped her up in his arms and carried her around the building and to his SUV.

Holly didn’t ask questions until they were both in the car. But as he steered the vehicle up the driveway, she asked, “Where are we going?”

“I bought a house when I got back from California,” Justin admitted, and then added quickly, “I know you might not want to settle here. You have to finish your courses in California and get your accounting license, and both our families live there too, but . . .” He glanced at her and smiled crookedly, “I was hoping someday you would come to me, and I didn’t want our first time together to be in a hotel like a cheap date, or the Enforcer house with everyone there.” Frowning, he quickly added, “Not, that I was presuming that we would—­” He fell silent and glanced at her worriedly when Holly put her hand on his leg.

“I don’t think you were presuming,” Holly said solemnly. “In fact, I think that’s about the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me.”

Justin smiled widely, his relief obvious. “I’m a pretty sweet guy.”

Holly burst out laughing, but nodded. “And funny too. You always make me laugh. Sometimes even on purpose.”

“Ha ha,” he said with a smile, and then squeezed her hand as he turned his attention back to the road. It wasn’t long though before they were turning into a driveway. It seemed the house he’d bought wasn’t far from Marguerite’s, which was nice. She’d liked the woman.

Curious, Holly peered at the house ahead, her eyes widening. It was a contemporary design, all red brick and windows. It was beautiful.

“I haven’t done much decorating yet,” Justin said quietly as they got out of the SUV. “I only got possession earlier this week.” He glanced to her and added, “And I kind of hoped you might—­I thought maybe you’d like to help,” he finished.

“I’d love to,” Holly assured him softly as she joined him at the front of the vehicle. Her gaze slid over the tall windows that ran the length of the front of the house. They revealed high ceilings and spacious, unfurnished rooms. She glanced to Justin though when he took her hand. She found him smiling down at her.

“Do you know how lucky I am?” he asked suddenly, squeezing her hand.

“As lucky as me,” she said, but Justin shook his head.

“Luckier,” he assured her solemnly as he led her to the front door. “It’s very rare for an immortal to find a life mate while as young as I am.”

“Young?” she asked dubiously as he unlocked the door.

“Yes.” He glanced to her with surprise as he pushed the door open. Seeing her expression, he added, “Well I’m—­for an immortal, I’m—­God! You think I’m old,” he moaned with dismay.

Holly chuckled, and stepped in front of him, to tangle her hands in the front of his shirt and pull him close. “Maybe, but that’s okay. You’re my old man.”

Justin groaned and then scooped her up into his arms.

“What are you doing?” she gasped with surprise, clutching at his shoulders.

“Sweeping you off your feet?” he offered hopefully.

Holly chuckled, and leaned her head against his shoulder, her arms tightening around him in a hug. “I do love you, Justin Bricker.”

Pausing, he bent his head to kiss her gently. “And I love you Holly soon-­to-­be-­Bricker.”

“Is that a proposal?” she asked, wide-­eyed.

“What? You thought you could just have your wicked way with me without buying the cow?” he asked indignantly as he started walking again, carrying her through the entry and starting upstairs to the second floor.

Holly laughed and shook her head. “You’re crazy.”

“About you,” he agreed, stepping off the stairs and starting across a large open loft. “By the way, did I mention that while I haven’t done much decorating, I did buy a bed?”

“Oh,” Holly sighed. “You are a clever man.”

“Your clever man,” he assured her and she nodded.

“Yes, my clever old man,” she teased and Justin groaned as he carried her into the bedroom.

Want more Lynsay Sands?

Keep reading for a peek

at her classic historical

ALWAYS

Available December 2015

from Avon Books

Lady Adela, abbess of Godstow, frowned down the length of the table at the nuns all seated for the nooning meal. Sister Clarice, Sister Eustice, and Lady Rosamunde were missing. It was not unusual for Sister Clarice to be late. The woman was late for everything. Most likely she had forgotten to fetch the incense for the mass that would take place after the meal, and had gone to retrieve it. Sister Clarice always forgot the incense.

As for Sister Eustice and Lady Rosamunde, however, the two were always punctual, as a rule. However, they had not been at the morning meal either. Come to that, they had not been at matins, lauds, or prime. At Godstow, it took an emergency to keep a nun from mass, and this would be no exception. Sister Eustice and Lady Rosamunde had been in the stables through the night and well into the morning, working over a mare who was having difficulty birthing her foal.

But surely they were not still at that! she fretted, then glanced sharply toward Sister Beatrice, who had stumbled over the passage she was reading. Seeing that Beatrice along with all the other women were peering up the table at her, Lady Adela arched an eyebrow questioningly. Sister Margaret, the nun seated on her right, made a motion with her hands. Margaret held one hand up, the fingers fisted but for the baby finger, which hung down like the udder of a cow. With her other hand, she imitated the motion of milking.

Adela blinked, then realized that she had picked up the pitcher of milk and held on to it, thoughtlessly, as she worried about the missing women.

Passing the pitcher to Sister Margaret, the abbess gestured to the others to continue with their meal, then rose and moved to the door. She had barely stepped into the hall when she spotted Sister Clarice hurrying down the corridor, a slightly guilty flush on her face. Unable to speak during mealtime, Lady Adela once again arched an eyebrow, demanding an explanation of the woman’s tardiness.

Sighing, Clarice raised her hand and propped two fingers upward until they were inserted in her nostrils, somehow managing an apologetic look as she did so.

The action was a pantomime to announce that she had forgotten to provide incense for mass—­as Adela had suspected. Shaking her head, the abbess gestured for Clarice to continue on to her meal; then she made her way out to the stables.

The building was silent but for the faint rustle of hay as various animals shifted and glanced curiously toward her as Adela entered. Gathering the hem of her skirt close to avoid trailing it through anything unpleasant, she made her way down the rows of stalls until she reached the last one. There, Sister Eustice and Lady Rosamunde were kneeling by a panting mare. She stood for a moment, peering affectionately at their bent backs as they toiled over the laboring beast; then her mouth dropped with dismay as Sis Eustice shifted and she could see exactly how Lady Rosamunde was toiling.

“What in God’s name are you doing?”

Rosamunde stiffened at that horrified exclamation from behind, her head whipping briefly around to see the abbess gaping at her with dismay. Then she swiftly whirled back to soothe the mare as the animal whinnied, its muscles shifting around her hands.

Leaping to her feet, Eustice ushered the horrified Adela a few steps away, babbling explanations as they moved. “The mare was having difficulty. She labored for hours before we realized that the foal was backward. Lady Rosamunde is trying to help.”

“She has her hands inside the mare!” Adela pointed out with horror.


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