“Right now you’re doing business with me,” Jordan reminded him.

“Yes, that’s true.” Pitte’s gaze shifted to Jordan.

“I have a question first.” Rowena patted Pitte’s arm to hold him off, then looked at Jordan. “Why do you want this house?”

“I’ve always wanted it.”

Brad rolled his eyes toward heaven. “Have pity on him.”

“The question is why.”

“It . . . spoke to me. I don’t mean that literally.”

“No.” Rowena nodded. “I understand you. Go on.”

“When I was a kid, I would look up here and I’d think: That’s my house. It’s just waiting for me to grow up. I remember telling my mother that I was going to buy it for her one day, and she’d be able to stand up here, on the top of the world.”

He shrugged. “When I was older, I would drive up here sometimes, look at the place and tell myself that one day I’d drive through the gates and walk right in the front door. It’s beautiful, and it’s strong, and it may be all the way up here, but it’s part of what makes the Valley what it is. I couldn’t give it to my mother. I want to give it to Dana. I want to build a life with her here, raise children with her here. I want to be able to look down at the Valley and know we’re all a part of something solid and real and important.”

“You can have the house.”

The gleam in Pitte’s eyes winked out. “Rowena!”

“For its appraised value,” she continued, wagging a finger at her lover. “And not a penny more.”

“You wound me, a ghra.”

“You won’t charge him for the legal business of it, the settlement, the transfer, whatever it is. You will pay the fees and the . . . what are they called?” she asked Brad.

“Points.” He had to swallow a laugh. “I think you mean points.”

“Yes, all of that sort of business.” She thought for a moment. “I think that’s everything.”

Pitte hissed out a breath. “Women are a trial to a man. Why don’t I just wrap bows around the place and gift it to him?”

“Because he wouldn’t accept.” She leaned over to kiss Pitte’s cheek while he scowled. “It’s always been his,” she said. “You know that as well as I.”

“Be that as it may.” He drummed his fingers on his knee. “You and I,” he said to Jordan, “will work out the details of the thing without the female buzzing about.”

“At your convenience.”

“Shake hands on it, Pitte.” Rowena gave him a nudge. “Shake hands on the terms just set.”

“Bloody hell.” He shoved himself to his feet, held out a hand. “Might as well do it, then, or she’ll nag me hairless.”

Jordan clasped Pitte’s hand, felt a quick jolt. It might have been power, he mused, or simple frustration. It was hard to tell when you were closing a deal with a god. “Thank you.”

“So you should thank me. Your friend over there will know I could turn considerably more than the appraised value in this current market.”

“That handshake binding?” Brad wondered.

“It is.”

“Without a full inspection of the property, I’d say you’d have gotten ten percent over appraisal. Minimum.”

“More like fifteen.” Though he’d been carefully silent during the transaction, Flynn spoke up now. “When you publish the local paper, you know these things. There’s a hotelier who’s tried to buy it up, turn it into a resort. He got close a couple of times,” Flynn continued conversationally. “But something always screwed the deal. Bad luck for him.”

Rowena met his quiet look, and smiled. “Indeed. Would you care to go through some of the house now, Jordan?”

Before he could open his mouth, Flynn tapped his watch. “We’re running a little short on time.”

“Ah, well. Soon, then.” She took Jordan’s hand as well, squeezed it once. “You must see more of it, and the views, of course, from the terraces and balcony and parapet.”

“I’ll look forward to it. I’ll bring Dana and we’ll . . .”

He trailed off, staring at her, the way she stood. Slim and quiet and somehow apart from the rest of them.

And he saw the woman standing on the parapet under a gleaming moon with her dark cloak billowing in the wind.

“It was you. All those years ago, I saw you.”

“I saw you.” She touched a hand, very gently, to his cheek. “A young, handsome boy, so troubled, so full of thoughts. I wondered when you’d remember me.”

“Why did I see you? Why didn’t they?”

“They didn’t need to.”

HE wasn’t sure what it all meant, and Rowena had left him wondering. What he needed, Jordan decided, as he let himself into Dana’s apartment, was a little time to get his thoughts into some sort of order.

Maybe he should write them down, as he had with the sequence of events. He would sit down at Dana’s computer and just let it flow.

But when he walked into the bedroom, he heard the shower running. He hadn’t noticed her car parked out front, which meant, he concluded, that his mind was somewhere else. He poked into the bathroom to let her know he was there.

Her scream could have shattered brick when he tugged back the shower curtain.

With one hand over her heart, the other shoving at her dripping hair, she gasped for air. “Why don’t you just make that squeaky violin music and finish the job?”

“Hey, it’s not like I’m wearing a dress and carrying a knife. I just wanted to tell you I was here, so I wouldn’t scare you when you came out.”

“Yeah, better to scare me when I’m wet and naked and helpless.”

He pursed his lips. She’d always looked good wet and naked. “Helpless?”

“Okay, maybe not helpless.” She reached out, grabbed a fistful of his shirt. “Get in here, big guy.”

“Tempting, very tempting, but I need to talk to you about some stuff, and we need to get to Flynn’s.”

“Talk later, hot, steamy sex now.”

“It’s really hard to argue with that.” He toed off his shoes.

She waited until he stepped in behind her, then handed him the soap and an over-the shoulder invitation. “Wash my back?”