Free To Eternity by Daisy Banks Page A

double-checked, then swapped closed eyelids and did the other. The effect hit the spot she wanted. She’d not worn her evening face while she’d been at the house with Magnus. They’d both preferred to dine casually each evening. What with the preparation she’d done for the first transformation, and then the second, along with their discussions about the ongoing renovations to the house, the search for suitable antiques, there always seemed something to occupy them. Dressing in her best for dinner tonight would be a fun alternative. Even if she’d have to swap her heels for Wellington’s when they went to the firework display.
    The gown she’d picked hung on a hanger on the door. Nothing too glitzy, nor her favorite leather dress, were right this evening. Tonight she wanted feminine with a bit of umph behind it. Too much time sloping around the house in jeans and T-Shirts, so easy to fall into that trap. Magnus, when she first called at the house, had worn flannels and his brass-buttoned blazer with a crisp white shirt and a cravat. A retro look she loved, but he’d succumbed to her influence with the jeans. Once this week was over, she’d talk to him about it. He didn’t have to wear jeans to convince her of anything.
    She smiled. One of the funniest things had been the day she came back here for the second time. After the glances he’d given her tutu and leggings on her first visit, a week later for their next appointment she’d worn her best cashmere business suit in an effort to impress. But when he opened the door, he’d been wearing jeans. A softness warmed through her, followed by the glow of desire at the recollections. Her business suit hadn’t lasted long. The extremely expensive trousers ended up on the floor of the pagoda along with his jeans. That day, the dreams lived.
    God, they had been good together right from the start. She smeared on some lip-gloss and grimaced to make sure it hadn’t gravitated to her front teeth.
    They needed to talk about so many issues. With the big problem of his longevity and her wish to become like him looming over them, their day-to-day conversations didn’t focus on small points. Slipping into the dress, she hooked up the front of the corseted bodice. Cost a darn fortune, this dress, from one of her favorite designers, but it was worth it, because it made the most of her assets. She’d worn it to the award ceremony in January and turned heads, not bad in A-list company.
    She stepped into her heels. Though Magnus hadn’t said, she’d picked up he liked them. Each time she’d worn the crimson patent stilettos, he’d spent a great deal of time focused on her footwear. Tonight’s gift for him, her heels, was a starter, at least. Somehow, she’d say sorry properly for being a bit crazy the other day about the Martha Raynalds revelation. She shouldn’t have jumped to the usual conclusions. There wasn’t anything to be jealous about in him having a brief relationship with someone seventy years gone.
    He hadn’t cheated on her.
    The hurt came because she wanted him, not just wanted to screw him. Though she’d be happy to treat him to a weekend of love-making in her flat in London, she wanted so much more.
    Tonight she’d apologize, tell him she forgave him for dropping his bombshell of news, and she’d do enough to make certain the only woman on his mind was her. She hoped.
    Bonfire Night was special, had always been a night to look forward to when she was little, before her mother got ill. Every year they’d gone to Bonfire Night parties or to the big displays in the parks in Bath. Once she’d moved to London, the parties and the displays got bigger and better.
    A piece of normality for her and a reminder for Magnus of the fun activities the year offered. She clipped on the pearl earrings that had been her gran’s. The creamy gems gleamed with a fabulous