The office was an extension of Charon. The floors were a dark wood, the walls painted a soft, muted gray. There were highly prized—and coveted—swords and shields dating back to the fourteenth through seventeenth centuries. A vase from eighteenth-century China, paintings from British artists during the nineteenth century, and other highly prized items.
Mixed with the historical items were photos of Scotland in varying sizes around the room. The rugs, drawing in the various shades of green, bronze, burgundy, and navy only helped to accentuate the warm feel of the room.
There was a cream-colored leather couch sitting near the hearth but facing the windows looking out over the forest. Charon sat there often, sipping on his favorite scotch, Dreagan.
Laura’s desk was situated in a corner so she could see anyone coming up the stairs. The way her desk was arranged, it also prevented anyone from peering into Charon’s office unless she allowed the visitor.
She looked at the closed door to Charon’s office. The door was the same color wood as the floor and moldings. It was one area she rarely ventured into when he wasn’t there.
He’d never told her she wasn’t allowed, but just like the rooms above used for his residence, they were private. And she kept them that way. It just seemed wrong to venture into the places that were his when all it made her do was think of how it would feel if he would look at her with desire, as he did other women.
Laura looked back at the rows of CDs and let her gaze wander the titles. Charon had eclectic tastes. He loved hard rock, classical, soft rock, rap, and everything in between.
Last night she listened to Beethoven, and she was in the mood for something faster, something she could jam to while filing the mound of papers on her desk.
With a smile, she pulled out Whitesnake’s Greatest Hits and put the CD in the player. In seconds, the riffs of “Still of the Night” filled the room.
She kicked off her heels and sang as she picked up the stack of papers and walked to the filing cabinet behind her desk.
Charon watched the sun make its way across the sky. The bright ball of light turning from yellow to a huge orange sphere as it sank into the horizon, casting the clouds to shades of tangerine and lavender.
Even as the darkness began to descend, he wasn’t concerned about finding his way back. He knew the lay of the land like the back of his hand, and the god within him allowed him to see in the night as easily as he saw by day.
He wasn’t ready to leave the peace of the woods. It was stunning during the day, but once night fell, a different kind of beauty took hold. There had been many nights he’d slept under the stars, listening to the night.
Yet he knew the time had come for him to return. Slowly, he stood and after one last look at the valley, turned on his heel to make the trek back to town.
Before he could see his building, his enhanced hearing picked up the strings of music from the tavern as well as his nightclub next door. There was a third set of music. This one he knew came from his office.
Laura loved music, and he had given her access to his collection. Every day she picked something different. He had long ago stopped being surprised by her love of vastly diverse music. It nearly matched his own.
Her choices also told him how she was feeling on any particular day. There were days when he knew she was troubled by the slow, soulful melodies she chose. Whether she was in a somber mood from missing someone or just lonely, he didn’t know. And never asked.
He wanted to, and there were times he’d almost looked into her past. But a past was a past. If she wanted him to know, she’d tell him. The days her green eyes took a faraway look were the hardest for him to keep his distance.
Charon liked her, but he knew better than to get too close. He’d made that mistake too many times before and watched friends grow old and die. Now, he did everything he could to keep his distance. From everyone.
She was an enticement he’d sensed the first time he saw her. Still, he’d been unable to turn away from her. The next thing he knew, he was offering her a job. She was dependable, reliable, and so damned pretty there were days it hurt just to look at her.
He paused as he reached the clearing behind his building. His gaze was drawn upward to the second story, where he heard the unmistakable rhythms and lyrics of Whitesnake.
Without meaning to, his gaze sought out Laura. She wore a dress of sapphire that hugged her form, outlining every wonderful feminine curve. Her wavy dark hair was pulled away from her face with a Celtic silver clip at the back of her head while the rest of her long locks fell down her back.
With the chorus starting, she closed her eyes and did a little spin. There was a bright smile pulling at her delectable lips when she opened her eyes.