And then she was there, smiling up at him, and he knew he would ask nothing more of his existence than to wake with her beside him for as long as he drew breath.
Murmuring her name, he swung her into his arms.
"Are you going to have your wicked way with me?" she asked, grinning as he carried her down to their lair.
"Yes, ma'am," he replied. "Every way I can."
And he did.
EPILOGUE
Four months later
Brenna sat on the curved sofa in front of the hearth, her daughter cradled in her arms while Roshan read aloud from a book of old Irish poems. She loved the sound of his voice, so deep and rich. It never failed to amaze her that words written by a poet long dead still had the power to speak to her heart and her soul.
She glanced at the portrait hanging over the fireplace. It had been painted a month after their marriage. Roshan had been reluctant, but Brenna had insisted. "So we can always remember how we looked when we fell in love," she had said, knowing he would be unable to refuse her. Soon they would have to have another one painted, she thought, one that included their daughter.
The baby tugged at a lock of Brenna's hair, and tugged at her heart, as well.
After feeding the baby and changing her diaper, Brenna carried Cara Aideen upstairs to the nursery. Once a room that held only books, it now held everything a new baby required, and more. The walls were painted a soft pink; a carpet of a deeper shade covered the floor. White lace curtains fluttered at the window. A white crib stood against one wall, a matching dresser on the other. Angelic cherubs danced on the ceiling. There was a padded rocking chair in one corner, a huge stuffed teddy bear in another.
"Sweet dreams, my angel," Brenna murmured as she put her daughter to bed.
Looking up, Brenna saw that Roshan had followed her into the room. Moving up beside her, he placed his arm around her shoulders.
"She grows more lovely every day, does she not?" Brenna asked.
"Indeed," he replied, kissing her cheek, "and so does her mother."
"I still cannot believe she is really ours."
Roshan nodded. Adopting the baby had been relatively easy. He'd had to use his supernatural powers on more than one occasion, but he'd had no qualms about doing so. And though the means had been less than totally honest, Cara Aideen was legally theirs. He had expected the infant to make drastic changes in their lives, and she did, but not in the ways he had thought. By the time she was a week old, he was her slave and her champion, willing to do anything to keep her safe.
He knew they would have some difficult days ahead when Cara Aideen started to wonder why she never saw her parents during the day, why they never ate together as a family, why they insisted that her birthday parties be held at night, why they missed school picnics and went swimming only after dark. In time, they would tell her the truth. In time, perhaps she would join them. If not, well, that was a worry for another day.
Drawing Brenna into his arms, he kissed her gently. "You've put our daughter to bed, my sweet wife," he said, kissing the tip of her nose. "Is it my turn now?"
"Would you like me to tuck you in and kiss you good night?" she asked with a teasing smile.
"Indeed, I would."
Laughing softly, she took him by the hand and led him out of the nursery and down the hall to their bedroom. She dimmed the lights with a look, then slowly began to undress him, letting her fingertips explore the width of his shoulders, the hair that curled on his chest, the ridges in his stomach. And when he stood gloriously naked, she slid her robe over her shoulders, let her nightgown pool at her feet.
"I will love you as long as we live," he whispered.
"And I you."
His gaze moved over her, filled with aching tenderness and the promise of forever as he carried her to bed. And as he covered her body with his, a chant whispered long ago rose in Brenna's mind.
Light of night, hear my song bring to me my love, ere long.
Clasping her husband close, she thanked the Fates for granting her heart's desire and making her every dream and wish come true.