Free Face to Face (The Deverell Series Book 2) by Susan Ward

the fire place. Her curiosity was fully aroused now. Instead of sitting in the chair beside him, she settled on the floor at his feet.
    Varian set the package before her. “There is a note.”
    Her eyes widening as she stared at her name neatly penned on the face of the note, Merry recognized the writing instantly. The gift was from Indy. Surprised and perplexed, she broke the seal. She read the note silently: Happy birthday, Merry. I could think of no better person to entrust the care for this. Regards, Indy.
    She stared at the note. “It’s a birthday present for me.” She looked at Varian then. “How did Indy know it was my birthday this week? I never told him.”
    Varian shrugged as though the mystery was of no concern. He had wondered the same thing himself, but the boy was as unwilling to explain how he knew this as he was his purpose in bringing Merry aboard ship. Questioning Indy had only brought persistent silence. Merry was easier to read than the boy. It was clear she knew nothing about the boy’s motivation or how he had known this.
    Varian said, “Why don’t you see what he sent you? I think you will be pleased.”
    Merry opened the wrapping to find a leather portfolio. She gasped as she began going through the thick stack of sketches. They were of her. Dozens of them, in every mood and turn. She spread them out across the rug, shaking her head in disbelief.
    “Did you know Indy was this talented?” she asked. “They are extraordinary.”
    “He is most skilled, Little One. I’ve seen but a few of his sketches. He does not share them willingly so it is a compliment he gave these to you. I would say this collection is among his best work.”
    Varian watched Merry float down to lay on her stomach on the floor as she smartly examined each one. The boy was in love with her. It showed in every stroke and line, though Varian did not doubt Merry failed to see that. Merry failed to see the obvious far too often. It was a blessing, though at times a curse.
    Varian gladly cut off the trek of his thoughts when Merry turned to look over her shoulder and smiled at him. What this situation did not need was one more level of complication. It was complicated enough as it was.
    Lifting a sketch from the ground, she eased up to sit with her back against his chair, holding the portrait beneath him. “What is a compliment is how the boy sees me. The sketches are so full of detail and life. Remarkable. But his perception of me.” She blushed. “Only an excessively vain woman would believe this image was how she truly appeared. No woman is as beautiful as the boy sees me.”
    Varian paused to pull into order his internal arrangement. The portrait she held was one of her in his shirt, sitting on the window bench in familiar pose, arms hugging knees. It was in profile, her face tilted to capture the light, her hair a magnificent cloud around her, and it breathed of her essence in every stroke.
    Whispering, “You are more beautiful, Merry. The boy is close. But you are perfection and even the most skilled hand could not capture that.”
    Merry felt her insides melt in response. Danger, Merry. Danger. She changed course quickly. “But how did Indy know it was soon my birthday?”
    ~~~
    Merry fell asleep on the floor in Varian’s bedroom surrounded by the portraits. The next morning she woke alone in his bed. Rolling over, she found his pillow undisturbed beside her, but she had sensed before spotting it that he had not joined her. The plush sheets were a pleasant cocoon around her, but they did not hold his warmth or scent.
    Tossing the blankets aside, she realized her gown had been removed and all that remained was her dainty, sheer chemise. Blushing at the thought of Varian undressing her, she saw the sketches had been carefully gathered and were now again secure in the case.
    Every day she went a little deeper into the trap and she could not seem to stop it. In those rare moments of honesty with herself, she was not