The Tall Man
The most glorious boy stood before her. He’d come into the room without a sound. She almost didn’t recognize him, such was the transformation. His hair had darkened to a metallic blond. His skin glowed with health. Golden. He was still thin, but a tremendous sense of power coursed through his lean frame. His black eyes sparked with energy. The god that had rowed her across the English Channel was indeed Paul. None of it had been a dream.
“Me,” he returned
“Why did you kidnap me?” she demanded. “And dress me like sleeping beauty.” She indicated her get-up with disdain.
“I think you look lovely,” he defended. “I got the idea from the window in your room. It was a sign pointing me in this direction. Signs should not be ignored.”
“You kidnapped me because of the window in my room!” she returned incredulously. “Are you mad?”
“Kidnap is such a harsh word … as is mad. Let’s just say I took you somewhere where we could talk without being interrupted by your oh-so-many and ardent admirers.”
“Where are we?”
He raised a finger and wagged it. “That I won’t tell you, not until we’ve had a chance to talk, a chance for you to get to know me better. The real me.”
“You’re different,” she said matter-of-factly.
Her words pleased him. “You’ve noticed. I thought you might like me better once you saw me in my true form.”
“You look healthier,” she clarified.
“Healthier? That’s all?”
“You look healthier … the canal … were in Bruges.”
“You are a clever one,” he marveled, as though she’d just performed brain surgery and not made an obvious guess. “Part of the reason I love you so ... that and many other reasons. I’ve never met anyone like you. I’ve lived a long time, and so that is saying something. Yes. We are in Bruges. And yes, I’ve visited the phial.” He opened his arms again and turned around slowly so she could take in his full transformation. Then he crossed the room to stand directly in front of her. “Fit as a fiddle, the picture of health, as they say. Perhaps now I stand a chance against that dark-haired Clâvigen of yours. Colin’s right. He is pretty. I did like my chances against Fitt however, even as I was before. I feel sorry for him. He does love you so.” Paul paused and studied her face and then reached out and caressed her cheek.
Bara cursed herself. The feel of his fingers against her flesh was heavenly.
***
Words and Images are my own. The Tall Man is available in paperback or digital through amazon and your local libraries and bookstores. Click on any title below to further explore and support my writing.
