I did as he asked. A moment later, he took both my hands and I felt myself being pulled forward into the room. It was warm, and smelled delicious—like Blair’s bakery in the morning. “Okay. You can open them.” I opened them and gasped. My hands flew to my cheeks. I turned in a slow circle, looking at the bedroom of my dreams, lit by dozens of candles. My eyes traveled over the elegant bedding, the soft colors, the plush fabrics, the shining floors. And the window seat—he’d built a window seat. With a cushioned bench upon which half a dozen pillows rested, along with a soft throw blanket. Not
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