Free Heart Choice by Robin D. Owens Page A

Finally, he sighed. “The Residence can clean the Heir’sSuite playroom for you.”
    The faintest voice sounded in Mitchella’s head. “There was once a Famdoor from the hall to the playroom. I will dissolve the barrier and open it again,” said the Residence.
    Both Drina and Straif nodded. They obviously heard the Residence, too, and much better than Mitchella. Ah, well, they were both more Flaired than she.
    Drina rose to her feet, angled her body in a long stretch, and trotted back up the staircase.
    Mitchella chuckled. “So, as long as the scent of boy is removed from the playroom she will be happy to live there.”
    Straif grimaced. “I haven’t had Drina as a Fam for very long, but I think she expects perfection.” He shrugged again, but his voice sounded lighter. “She’ll no doubt supervise the cleaning.” He gestured to the left. “I’ve found a sitting room that can serve as a base of operations. Our contract is there, with the terms we discussed.”
    His hand slid down to clasp her fingers, and she realized with a flush of heat that she’d been touching him far too much, too casually, as if he were more of a friend than a client. Her nerves shivered as she became intensely aware of the strength and warmth of his fingers around hers, the callouses on his hand, the tingle of Flair he transmitted to her skin.
    Her breath came shorter, and she steadied it. They walked to the room in silence, but now that she experienced the attraction to him again, she could only think of his body, how their steps matched. How they might match in bed.
    He stopped at a door midway down the corridor and opened it to a dark purple room. Mitchella flinched at the sight of heavy velvet curtains coated with grime and frayed upholstery. At her reaction, Straif dropped her hand. Her lips thinned in irritation at herself. Nothing to do but act grandly.
    Mitchella swept into the purple parlor before him. It was far too dim for Straif’s need to appreciate her. Just the simple walk down the corridor with her, the sensual heat and movement of her body beside his, had distracted him from painful memories and set his mind on the future.
    With a wave of his hand and a murmured Word he sent the drapes opening, and watched with a wince as several dropped to the floor in heaps. The windows were filthy, as if they were covered with some sort of scum. Racking his brain, he couldn’t think of the proper spell to clean them.
    She stood in the middle of the room, hands on hips, surveying it. “Are the standard housekeeping spells in effect?”
    Before he could answer, the Residence replied with surprising eagerness. “Yes, Gentlelady Clover.”
    Mitchella hesitated, cleared her throat. “Is that you, GrandHouse T’Blackthorn Residence?”
    â€œYes, Gentlelady Clover. I have communicated with T’Ash Residence. It is most pleased with the results of your skills. It has shown me your work.” The Residence sighed. “It brags. It is still a very young Residence, no more than two decades old.”
    Straif enjoyed the blush that enhanced Mitchella’s beauty. “My thanks for your kind words, Residence.” Her smile made Straif forget the state of the room, drew him to her.
    â€œClear windows,” Mitchella said. The room darkened into blackness for an instant, there was a swish, and a moment later the glass of the windows sparkled. Light seemed to dance into the room, and Straif felt a corresponding lift in his spirits.
    Striding over to a small desk, Mitchella scanned the contract and nodded, but didn’t sign it.
    Mitchella turned the desk from facing the windows to facing the inside of the chamber. Then she sat, set the contract aside, and pulled out a writing tablet and drawstick. She glanced at him, that professional smile on her lips.
    Straif vowed to turn that smile into something more sultry before she left the room. He