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He looked at me for a long moment.

"Do you imagine I haven't noticed your curves?" he asked at last.

I felt my heart sink.

"Oh." I looked down at myself, suddenly wishing I hadn't brought the subject up. "Well, I guess that's honest, anyway."

"Celeste, look at me," he said firmly.

I looked up reluctantly.

He was leaning forward in his chair now, regarding me with an expression of such intensity that I found myself holding my breath.

"Do you think I spent my life longing for skinny little girls?" he demanded. "I was a mature man long before I was cursed, and I've always preferred a woman with some substance to her. Someone warm and soft and lovely to hold."

"Oh," I said again, feeling another little flutter in my chest.

"And as for your silver hair and the lines upon your face, I assure you that neither detracts from your beauty," he continued. "Quite the contrary. They tell me that you've lived a life—that you've experienced things and learned from them. I find that far more attractive than the empty perfection of youth."

I stared at him, feeling tears prickling behind my eyes. His attitude was so completely opposite of my ex’s, I’m afraid it made me emotional.

"Really?" I whispered.

"Really," he said firmly. "Celeste, you are a beautiful woman. I've thought so from the moment you walked into my house and slapped me across the face!"

I gave a surprised laugh, which came out a little watery.

"Oh my God! You're never going to let me forget that, are you?"

"Certainly not!" he replied, giving me a wicked smile. "It was the first time anyone had touched me in a hundred years. I should think it would be rather difficult to forget!"

I laughed again, feeling my embarrassment melting away. There was something so sweet about the way he could be gruff and bossy one moment and wonderfully tender the next. He was still the same impossible man who'd ordered me around and insulted my clothes, but now I was beginning to see another side of him…a side I liked very much.

And that made me realize that I wanted to know him better—much better. But there was still one thing bothering me.

"Garrik," I said quietly. "I just don't want you doing something you’re not sure about because you think it's your only chance to break your curse."

His expression softened.

"Sweetheart, I assure you that nothing could be further from the truth," he said. "If we were to attempt this spell, I would consider it an honor to be trusted with your pleasure. But I will not ask you to do it merely for my sake."

He rose from his chair and came over to where I was sitting, kneeling beside me so that our eyes were level.

"Celeste, I want you to understand something," he said seriously. "You've already given me more than I ever expected to receive again. You've allowed me to touch another living person, to hold you in my arms, and to feel warmth and affection after a century of loneliness. Even if we never break this curse, I shall always be grateful to you for that."

I felt my throat getting tight.

"Oh, Garrik," I whispered.

He reached for my hand, and I felt the familiar warmth spreading through his fingers as they became solid against mine. His large hand closed gently around my smaller one, and he lifted it to his lips, pressing a tender kiss to my knuckles.

"I would welcome the opportunity to give you pleasure, sweetheart," he murmured, holding my eyes with his own. "But only if it is something you truly desire. Not because some ancient spell commands it, and certainly not because you feel you owe me anything."

I looked into his eyes and felt something inside me soften—a hard knot that had been in my chest ever since I’d caught Jason cheating.

Because I did desire it. I wanted to feel a man’s hands on me again. And I wanted to know what it would be like to be cherished by a man who thought I was beautiful just as I was, without wishing I was younger or thinner or somehow different.

And more than anything, I wanted to experience that kind of tenderness with him—with Garrik.