Standing in the kitchen inside the underground lair, Amantha plucked a chocolate truffle off a glass tray. Careful not to crush it, she dropped the ball into a bowl of dark cocoa powder. A quick roll. A light dusting. Just the right amount of bitter coating the sweet, and she fished it out, set it on a piece of wax paper, and picked up the next.

Pursing her lips, she surveyed her choices. Dunk it in cocoa again or—

With a hum, she rolled the treat in a dish full of finely chopped nuts. Two down, twenty-three left to smother in the topping of her choice. Her mouth curved, she swayed to the song on the radio as she worked. Contentment swamped her. She loved her new home. Practically worshiped the kitchen inside the underground lair, even though it didn’t have a chilled section of countertop to roll out pastry dough. The layout wasn’t perfect for a bakery, not by a long shot, but she adored it anyway.

The richness of Cherrywood cupboards, the smooth Carrara countertops, the fancy mouldings and high-tech appliances made her feel at home. As though she’d found her place and belonged where she stood—inside a secret lair with a bunch of dragon warriors…all of whom suffered from a serious sweet tooth.

Amantha huffed in amusement.

Sitting on the other side of the island, Elise looked up from her book. “What’s so funny?”

“Just thinking about Wallaig’s reaction to lemon tarts.”

Her friend raised a brow. “Explosive?”

“Orgasmic,” she murmured, the memory of him smearing creamy filling on her skin making her shiver. He’d taken his time licking it off, leaving no part of her untouched. “For me.”

“I love reciprocation,” Elise said, flipping a page in her book. “I read to Cyprus from an ancient Bedouin text the other night. I couldn’t walk straight the next day.”

Amantha snorted. “Steamy stuff?”

Blue eyes sparkling, her friend grinned. “It had concubines in it.”

“You are such a tease.”

“Can’t help it.” A blush on her face, Elise shrugged. “I want him all the time. It’s a little embarrassing.”

She knew the feeling. Three weeks to the day of her rescue, and she couldn’t get enough of Wallaig either. She thought about him all the time. Worried about him when he left the lair. Enjoyed every moment he spent with her inside it. Which ended up being a lot. If he was home, he was with her. Well…she frowned…except for this afternoon.

Rolling a truffle in colorful sprinkles, she shook her head. No doubt in her mind. He was up to something. A creature of habit, he never changed his routine. Today, though, he’d sidestepped questions and skipped out early, leaving her to the truffles, making her suspicious. Now, she wondered what the heck he had planned. Something sneaky. Something interesting. Something to do with her, for sure.

“Elise?”

“Yup.”

“What’s going on?”

“What do you mean?” Elise went all wide-eyed, a sure sign of treachery.

Amantha scowled. “Don’t give me that. You know what I mean. Where did the guys go?”

“Can’t tell you.” Completely unrepentant, Elise snapped her book closed. “I crossed my heart and hoped to die, so—”

“You suck. Girls are supposed to stick together.”

“Not this time. And anyway…” Her friend tilted her head as a tingle swept the back of Amantha’s neck. “You’re about to find out. The guys are home.”

Brushing cocoa powder off her fingertips, Amantha tugged on her apron strings. The knot loosened as heavy footfalls approached the kitchen. Tossing the apron onto a nearby stool, she turned toward the entrance just as Wallaig pushed open the door. Wraparounds in place, his gaze met hers. Butterflies took flight in the pit of her stomach. Prickles ghosted over her skin and…God. He always did that to her. Her reaction bordered on insane. No matter how many times she laid eyes on him he made her body sing and her heart yearn.

“Kazlita,” he said, the rumble in his voice making her quiver.

“Hi,” she whispered, acting like a green girl, instead of the woman he made love to every day. “Want a truffle?”

Her voice pulled him across the kitchen. “Is it lemon flavored?”

Her lips twitched. God help her, he was obsessed. Looked as though she’d be making more lemon tarts later. Thank God. “No, chocolate.”

“Leave them to Levin, then,” he said. “That annoying SOB loves chocolate.”

Skirting the island, Wallaig stopped in front of her. Unable to resist, she flattened her hands on his chest and tipped her chin up, asking without words for a kiss. With a hum, he dipped his head. Big hands playing in her hair, he brushed his mouth over hers. One gentle kiss, a quick flick of his tongue and he withdrew, leaving her wanting.

She protested with a murmur.

He nipped her bottom lip. “Patience, lass. We’ve time and more for loving later. But first, come with me. I have a surprise for you.”

“What is it?”

He snorted. “Well, now, it wouldn’t be much of a surprise if I told you.”

True enough. “I’ve never been one for surprises, Wallaig.”

“Trust me, Amantha.” The corners of his eyes crinkled behind his wraparounds. “You’ll like this one.”

Stepping back, he held out his hand. She took it without hesitation, allowing him to lead her out of the kitchen. Excitement kicked in as he towed her across the main living area. Footfalls muffled by plush Turkish rugs, he skirted the couches and wide-backed chairs sitting beneath the colorful stained-glass ceiling and headed for the staircase across the room. Lacing her fingers with his, she climbed the stairs and stepped into a large vestibule.

Scarred in places, a wide wooden door stood across the space.

She glanced at Wallaig. “We’re going into the pub?”

“Aye.” Tugging on her hand, he drew her forward. As he opened the door, jazz music poured into the vestibule, the mournful song of a lone saxophone. “Or rather, through it.”

Huh. Okay. If he hadn’t had her attention before, he did now.

Curiosity running rampant, Amantha followed him into the tavern. More high-end restaurant than pub, the wall-to-wall wood panelling and coffered ceiling should’ve made the space feel dark. Somehow, though, it didn’t. The décor screamed old world instead: comfortable, intimate and cozy in a way she appreciated. Her gaze drifted over patrons seated in plush booths and clustered around large tables with comfortable chairs. Her mouth curved. Not an empty seat in the house. Rannock would be pleased by the turnout.

In charge of the whiskey distillery and restaurant, the huge warrior stood behind the bar mixing drinks…trying not to glare at Levin. Golden eyes full of mischief, Levin shoved Rannock to one side and grabbed a bottle of wine. The warrior pushed him back. Levin said something she couldn’t hear. As the men tussled behind the bar, Wallaig shook his head at their antics, but didn’t stop to talk. Pace steady, he passed the swinging kitchen doors, made a sharp left, and walked toward another door.

A second before he reached it, the wooden panel swung open.

Amantha followed him over the threshold in to a bright space. She glanced around. Plaster walls painted pale yellow. A wide expanse of windows fronting the street to her right. Tin panels stamped with a pretty pattern over her head, absolutely no furniture and…two big boxes sitting in the center of the room.

She read the writing on the side of the cardboard. Her breath caught. “Stoves?”

“Commercial grade. Rannock assures me they are the very best.”

“You’re giving me ovens?”

“Nay, Amantha,” he murmured, taking off his sunglasses. His damaged eyes met hers, holding her secure. “I’m giving you a bakery. The shop is yours, to do with as you please. A construction crew will be here on the morrow to see to any renovations.”

Shock bombarded her. Her mind spun as she looked around. Amantha sucked in a breath as the enormity of his surprise hit her. “Oh, my God. This is my dream, Wallaig. It’s my dream. You…I can’t believe…it’s beyond anything, so perfect and…”

Her voice cracked. Tears filled her eyes.

“Kazlita.”

Overcome by his generosity, she turned and launched herself at him. He caught her with a grunt. Wrapping her arms around him, she whispered, “Thank you. Thank you…oh, my God, thank you. It’s an incredible gift. The best surprise—thank you!”

“I love you, Amantha,” he said against the top of her head. “I want you to be happy here.”

Her heart paused mid-beat, then thumped hard. “You love me?”

“Aye…with all that I am.”

Awe whipped through her, making happiness rise. “I love you too.”

“Thank Christ.”

“You were worried?”

“A little,” Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, he rested his forehead against hers. “The fall has been hard and fast for us, lass. I wasn’t sure—”

“Never doubt my love, Wallaig—never.” Cupping his jaw, she kissed him softly. “I feel as though I’ve been waiting a lifetime for you. Waiting to tell you how much I need you…how much I want you…how much I love you.”

With a groan, he deepened the kiss, his urgency easy to read. She didn’t deny him. Amantha welcomed him with all of her heart, knowing she would never let him go. Wallaig was hers. Through no small miracle, she now belonged to him. No matter what the future brought, she would face it head-on, secure in the knowledge he would keep her safe and love her until the end of time.