But Conall was looking at her, not at the laptop. Her face was so animated and dear. The white streaks in her dark hair were glowing in the sunlight through the French doors, and her skin was like warm velvet under his fingertips.
He traced the line of her long neck with one finger, then let it wander further, navigating her collarbone and traveling to the enticingly low neckline of her dress. She sucked in her breath and gave a tiny whine of anticipation.
She had given him everything.
And there was only one kind of music he wanted to hear now.
r /> Chapter 55
“You can’t open anything until Christmas,” Conall reminded Gizelle from where he was sitting at the end of his bed, pulling sandals on.
“It’s so tantalizing!” she exclaimed, bouncing in place.
Conall’s cottage—their cottage!—was filled with gifts. They didn’t fit under the tiny fake tree, or even on the desk where Conall had set it up. There were colorful wrapped boxes on the floor all around it, and on top of the wardrobe, and on the bedside table, and covering the easy chair in the corner.
“I only have one present for you,” Gizelle said shyly. It was sitting in a place of honor in front of the plastic tree, a modest-sized box clumsily wrapped in silver paper and sporting no fewer than five glittering bows.
“I started out with more things,” Conall reminded her. “And you have a lot of missed Christmases to make up for. It’s all fair.”
She smiled, accepting his logic. But when she went to touch one of the smaller boxes, he stopped her. “No touching, now! My mother used to threaten to take them away if she saw fingerprints on them.”
Gizelle froze with her fingertips almost touching the box and reluctantly withdrew them. “I don’t know how I’m going to wait two whole days,” she said with a dramatic sigh. “This is the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”
“You stood up to my mother,” Conall reminded her. “You took a shower.”
Gizelle considered. “Those were hard,” she agreed. “But this is harder.”
“You’re learning to read. That’s hard.”
“That is hard,” Gizelle conceded. “But... presents!”
Conall laughed at her earnest excitement, and it felt so good to hear him laugh. Gizelle left the enticing gift to touch his knee and he took her hand to pull her close and kiss the laughter at the edges of her mouth.
She scrambled back at the sound of a knock on the door.
“It’s Scarlet,” she explained. She walked backwards so that Conall would see her face. “She’s angry.”
Scarlet didn’t look particularly angry when Gizelle let her in. Her face was carefully neutral and her smile for Gizelle was gentle. But Gizelle could feel the cold little prickles everywhere and every potted plant in the cottage seemed to shiver.
“I have something for you,” Scarlet said.
To Gizelle’s surprise, she was not speaking to Conall, but to her.
The resort’s owner put a manilla envelope in her eager hands. “Your name is Jessica Ambler. You were born twenty-eight years ago on August third.”
Gizelle froze, her fingers just holding the envelope.
Conall rose and walked swiftly to her side.
“What is this?” he asked when Gizelle couldn’t. He put his hand on her shoulder and shuddered.
“I received it in the last mail run,” Scarlet said, still looking at Gizelle. “A New York postmark, but no return address. Some of the documents are copies of confidential forms from Tony’s agency, but he swears he didn’t send it.”
“Who is Tony?” Conall demanded. “What agency?”
That earned him an appraising look from Scarlet while Gizelle continued to stare at the envelope that her life had narrowed down to.
“Shifter Affairs,” Scarlet told him. “It’s a quiet branch of the US government. Tony was a guest here, working undercover. He’s the one who brought Beehag’s zoo to light and helped shut it down.”