Page 72 of The Naughty List Agreement

“No locks?” she asked him. No matter how idyllic the town around this place seemed, it was still the twenty-first century.

“Uh, biometric coding on the door handle. I’m the only one who can open it,” he said. “And my parents.”

“I can’t believe you grew up in a place like this,” she said as they entered the main hall. She tipped her head back to look up at the dark vaulted beams. “Is that smoke damage on them?”

“Just from years of hearth smoke.” He gestured to the large stone fireplace that dominated one side of the hallway. Large wood logs were laid in it and the mantel was decorated with lighted garlands. Tiny carved houses that resembled many of the buildings they’d passed on their way up were nestled within it.

“Did you carve these?” she asked, walking over to get a closer look. Her nerves were back. There was nothing she wanted more than to have sex with Nick. That craving in her had grown with each intimate encounter they had. She ached to have him inside her, to feel his silky beard on her naked skin.

But it wasn’t just to satisfy a carnal ache. She liked him. A lot. She wanted him to like her too. He’d pretty much admitted he did. But he didn’t really know her. He couldn’t. There was something about her that always made people leave her—even people she hadn’t liked half as much as Nick.

That frightened her to her core.

“Only this one and this one,” he said, pointing to two smaller pieces that looked newer, without the patina of age on them.

“Those are my favorites.”

Tugging her into his arms, he kissed her slowly, deeply in this large hallway that was bigger than any church she’d been in. A part of her wondered why it didn’t feel cold or impersonal but instead was warm, welcoming, making her feel like she belonged there.

Hallways seemed to branch off in every direction. This house was big. Like, bigger than she realized from the outside.

He led her up a curving staircase sided by tall windows framed in dark wood and edged with glimmering frost. Through the enormous panes of glass she could see the village scattered down the hillside in golden lights. Cora slowed and stopped to look at it.

How had she never seen this place before? “I don’t understand.”

Nick stopped behind her, his hand on her shoulder, reassuring her. “What’s to understand? We’re behind Jack’s place, in the woods that hide the village from the road.”

“I guess. I wish I’d known this place was here. I could borrow a few ideas for the festival. You’ve already replicated part of the town in the convention space, but this feels so much bigger. Happier. Now I sound foolish.”

He chuckled in that way that sent sparks of fire throughout her body. “Never foolish. There’s a homey comfort from Hearthvale.”

“Hearthvale?”

“That’s what this place is called.”

That sounded about right.

Another staircase rose in front of them. It was wide, curved, and felt centuries old. The banister seemed to have been carved by hand and was etched with tiny scenes. Leaning in closer, she wasn’t sure, but it looked as if it showed elves carrying toys and one looked a bit like Buddy. There were depictions of children laughing as they opened presents. She traced her finger over them as they climbed.

“This place is… Well, no wonder you believe in magic. This entire mansion feels like it’s something from a fantasy.”

“I promise you it’s real. I’m a bit of a slob in my private space,” he reassured.

It was true. His bedroom was actually a series of rooms, more like an apartment. Bookcases lined the walls as they entered, this entryway more personal. She noticed that some of the spines were old and leatherbound, while other paperbacks were cracked and showed signs of heavy use. There were framed sketches of toy designs and an entire shelf of hand-carved wooden figures.

This was clearly Nick’s domain. There was a large desk in one corner that was stacked with letters and books. One of the books looked massive, and it was open on the desk. She could see columns and figures but when she moved closer to examine it, Nick was there first, flipping it closed.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to pry,” she said. Had she seen her name in there? No, it couldn’t be.

“Just have some private notes in there,” he said. She noticed the large tapestry hanging against the stone wall opposite the bookshelves. It looked large and old, like one of the ones she’d seen photos of from Hampton Court in the UK. She’d watched a TV special on them one time.

Drawn to it, she started at one end and worked her way along. It depicted a landscape that transitioned through the seasons. Each knot that made up the image was different. Some were small and clean, others looked aged as if they’d been there longer. Some of the knots were large and dark. She touched one and a shiver of unease went through her.

Drawing her hand back, she glanced at Nick who regarded her thoughtfully. “What is this?”

“It has a formal name, but I call it the Yearweave.”

“How lovely and strange.” Much like this house of his.