Page 33 of Tanglewood Legacy (The Three Sisters 3)
He had to be dreaming. That was the only explanation for this. To his left, a tree grew right through the middle of the house. He traced his gaze up its trunk and found the two parrots resting in a branch near the hole in the ceiling. Did he have a fever? He pressed a hand to his head. He didn’t feel hot.
Voices floated from a room to his right, and he padded toward them, gait uneven, bracing himself on anything he could reach. He stopped in the doorway, both hands gripping the doorjamb on either side of his shoulders to hold himself up. The room within had been devoured by a forest, deep green and blooming with every manner of flower. Bees buzzed. Butterflies flitted. Birds soared. He blinked at the vines, the trees, the bushes. The botanist in him wanted to study it all. The rest of him couldn’t get his head around what he was seeing.
At the center of the room, he found his Isis. Why had he thought it that way? Was she his? That was to be determined. Beside her, a woman who must have been her sister based on resemblance lay in a narrow bed with a babe in her arms. Medea and a man he’d never met stood on the mother’s other side.
He cleared his throat, and all four heads turned to stare at him.
“Pierre! What are you doing out of bed?” Isis held out her hands and started picking her way through the underbrush to get to him.
“You—” His voice cut out on a rasp, his tongue as dry as a strap of leather. He cleared his throat and tried again. “You have a jungle in your house.”
Isis reached him and wrapped an arm around his waist for support. “Yes, but don’t be alarmed. This isn’t something that happens every day.”
A laugh exploded from his chest. “Not every day, you say? That’s a relief.” He couldn’t stop laughing and was relieved when Isis’s chuckle joined his own.
“It happened because the baby was born,” Isis said. “It will go back to normal in a day or two.”
He turned his head to look at her. God, she was beautiful. No woman had ever fascinated Pierre as much as Isis. Part of him noted again that he should be afraid, but for some reason, the fear was far away again, impersonal. Nothing about tonight was normal. Nothing about this woman was normal. But when he looked at Isis, all he saw was a miracle of nature, a discovery of paradise he never wanted to leave, a gift woven for him by the universe. Or maybe it was the other way around. Maybe he’d been created for her.
Why wasn’t he afraid? “Do I have a fever?” he asked, swaying against her.
She placed a hand on his forehead. “I don’t think so, but you lost a lot of blood tonight.”
Pierre blinked. “You’re so beautiful, Isis. Stunning. Any man would count himself lucky to be with you.” He shifted unsteadily in her arms, and she grunted with the effort to right him.
“You need to rest. Let’s get you back to bed,” she said softly.
He didn’t move, just stared at her, losing himself in the deep blue of her eyes, so similar to that of the night sky right after the sun set. What universes must exist inside this woman, waiting to be discovered? If she were his, he’d never tire of her. If she were his…He should make her his.
She tried to guide him toward the stairs, but he planted his heels. “Pierre, you’ll have to move your feet. I’m far too exhausted to carry you up the stairs.”
“Marry me,” he blurted. Had he just said that out loud? Yes, he had, and he did not regret it. At the look of surprise on her face, he repeated himself. “Marry me, Isis.”
“The man is babbling,” her sister Medea said from the door to the forest. “Put him in the salon and give him some whiskey to settle his nerves. You’ll never make it up the stairs with him.”
“I’m not babbling or confused or feverish,” he said loudly. He faltered in her arms and caught himself on the wall. “Okay, the current state of things isn’t exactly optimal, but that doesn’t mean I don’t know what I’m saying. My mind is perfectly clear. Maybe the clearest it’s ever been. I see my future and know what’s missing. You. You are the woman for me, Isis. I must have you. I want to be the one to give you everything.”
Isis stared at him, her smile growing, and a wonderful lightness in his chest told him she was going to say yes. But before the word left her lips, lightning flashed. She yelled something foul, and then there was nothing but darkness.
ChapterSixteen
“Medea! He’s already unwell from blood loss. Did you have to knock him out?” Isis glared at her sister.
“Relax. It’s a simple sleeping charm that will wear off in a matter of minutes. He was delusional.” Medea raised her chin as if she saw no problem with her behavior.
“Can you two take it outside?” Circe growled from her spot on the table. She kissed the top of Endora’s head. “I don’t want the negativity around the new baby.”
Rhys gave them both a look sharp enough to cut.
Medea strode to Isis’s side before pointing her wand over her shoulder and muttering a short incantation. Tree branches moved aside, and the door to the office closed gently, a shimmy of purple signifying she’d blocked the sound.
“Why?” Isis insisted, pointing both hands at Pierre.
“I saw what was happening,” Medea said. “You almost said yes to him.”
Isis’s head grew hot. “That was the point. It was a marriage proposal. Iwouldhave said yes!”
The expression on Media’s face morphed into pure outrage. “Have you lost your mind? He’s a human.”
