Logs that had been halved to make a simple rectangular-shaped building with a roof made out of old tin. A porch that wrapped around three sides had four steps to reach it: Will knew the third would be loose because he’d been told again and again about the way it caught unsuspecting guests off guard and made everyone else laugh.
There were the pot plants around the side, though it was too dark to tell if they were blooming or not. And though the house boasted a stone chimney, the fire definitely wasn’t smoking.
He shifted his focus to the woman asleep beside him and his lips couldn’t help but lift in a sardon
ic smile of appreciation. Even in sleep she looked so … regal. She was a princess through and through. Her hands were clasped neatly in her lap and her outfit was barely wrinkled, despite the fact she’d flung herself off a building and then sat in a car for hours. She was immaculate.
He expelled a soft sigh and reached for his phone. He tapped out a quick message to Kiral. Safe. Going off-line now.
He waited until it had cleared out of his phone and then switched his device off, thrusting it heavily into the glove compartment.
With one last look at Sleeping Beauty, he pushed out of the car and walked over frost-hardened ground to the cabin. Ice was in the air he breathed. Snow would fall soon, he was sure of it. He rubbed his hands together and took the steps, skipping over the loose board. The key, he knew from numerous tales, hung beneath a Home is Where the Heart Is framed cross-stitch next to the door.
As he lifted it off the wall, a huge black spider leaped from behind the frame, crawling with gusto along the timber walls.
“Princess will love that,” he said under his breath, unhooking the key and sliding it into the door. Both the key and door seemed to have been made hundreds of years earlier, but together it was as good a match as the day they were cast. The door sprung open easily.
The moon was only just bright enough to shine a soft glow through the single room cabin. He reached inside and flicked the light switch. The cabin stayed dark. He hit it again, but the light didn’t turn on. With only the moonlight to guide him, Will felt his way into the kitchen and pulled open drawers until he found a box of matches. He struck one, and by the light of its flaming golden glow he saw a candle wedged into the neck of a wine bottle. He lit it, then located a dozen more scattered over the kitchen.
Once he’d given flame to them all, there was an eerie warmth in the place. He crossed the floor and crouched down before the fireplace. It was dusty as a donut and he had no idea how clear the chimney was. That would have to wait for the morning to investigate. No way was he going to risk smoking himself and Jalilah to death because some resourceful bird or rodent had got it into its head to make a nest in the flue.
The cabin hadn’t been used in a long time. If he hadn’t already known that, he’d have been able to deduce it from the layer of dust that sat over every piece of furniture. Cleaning it was therapeutic.
He worked the benches and the large oak table, then dusted the sofa and finally, the bed. It was a surprisingly homely arrangement, with a clean-looking duvet and several fluffy pillows propped against the headboard. He checked each of them for spiders, likewise beneath the bed and mattress and rubbed his hands down the front of his jeans.
It was far from suitable for someone like Lilah, but it was also the last place on earth anyone would think to look fore her.
Here, in a tiny cabin on the edge of a lake and surrounded by cliff-like mountain ranges, she might not be comfortable, but she would be safe.
And her safety was all he cared about.
Not her comfort.
Nor her good opinion.
With a nod to himself to affirm that viewpoint, he creaked out of the cabin and bounded down the stairs. At the car, he paused only for a single moment, before reaching across and unclipping her belt. She was so restful in sleep. Her eyes didn’t even twitch and flicker.
He shook his head, for some reason disapproving of her easy respite, before gently wrapping his strong arms beneath her and lifting her from the car.
She shifted a little, perhaps flirting with the idea of stirring, before cozying closer to his chest and sighing with contentment. He froze, the moonlight bathing him in a shard of haunted betrayal.
This was a duty of honour.
It was an obligation to an old friend and powerful man.
It was a calling.
The same silver line that shone over him dusted her, and he stared at her face. True, she wore the kind of make up one would expect a princess to. Her lashes were long though, even without the coatings of mascara, and her lips were full and sweet. Her cheekbones were pronounced and she had dimples in her cheeks when she smiled, as she had done, playfully, with Harry earlier that night.
She was going to hate being in the cabin with him.
And there was a small part of Will that was glad of that. He was glad that she wouldn’t enjoy herself. That this wouldn’t be fun for her, either.
They were two people who had been thrown together for the most serious of reasons.
That was all.
He avoided the creaky step as he carried her to the porch and shouldered in the door. She didn’t stir as he gently placed her onto the bed, though it creaked a little with her weight.