Read Online Heart Choice by Robin D. Owens - Free Book Online Page B

tonight, they could decide whom to approach and how.
    Straif waited for her at the top of the steps, face closed, and she knew that the family rooms would be worse for them all. The first few bedrooms on the second level were easily entered and discussed, they’d been guest rooms and a guest suite.
    Then, in at the third room on the left, Straif stopped to stare at a door. “The Heir’sSuite,” he said tonelessly.
    â€œYou are no longer the Heir,” Mitchella soothed. She was not going to ask if there was anything in the rooms that he wanted. Growing up with brothers and as a mother to Antenn, she could spot important treasures. Perhaps later, as he grew accustomed to the project and she knew him better, she could give him old items he might still like. “We can decorate the room in a manner that would welcome either a boy or a girl.”
    He blinked and an odd expression crossed his face, as if it was the first time he’d thought of his progeny as real children. Mitchella ignored a twinge of pain at the thought of her own sterility.
    â€œThat’s a good idea.”
    Drina sniffed at the bottom of the door and wrinkled her nose, then made a little sound in her throat.
    Straif actually smiled. “Drina says it smells like boy—sounds like she doesn’t much like boys.”
    Mitchella chuckled. “She’s a prissy cat, I don’t imagine she does.” Since it didn’t seem like they were going to open the door, she urged Straif on with a little tap against his back.
    But his steps lagged. Tension rose from him as they drew even with the next door on the left, the one in the middle of the corridor. Straif flicked his fingers at the intricately carved lintel, the heavy door. “The MasterSuite,” he said.
    Drina hummed in approval, walked around the door, stretched up on the door flexing her claws to give it her scent. The door swung wide on a dark-paneled room, and Straif turned abruptly away. A muscle twitched in his jaw as if even the small glimpse was too much for him to bear.
    He whispered. She looked at him. “What did you say?”
    â€œI didn’t say anything.” When he met her eyes, his gaze fixed on her face, ignoring the open door behind her.
    Mitchella rubbed her temples. “I could have sworn you said something.” She frowned in concentration. “Something about finishing the MasterSuite first so you can take your proper place in the Residence.”
    Straif looked startled, then arched a sandy eyebrow. “The Residence was talking to me on a private channel that takes less energy than general audio. Interesting that you can hear it. Probably because you have an affinity with homes due to your profession.”
    Her pulse picked up pace. Another strange and unusual thing, mental connection with a sentient house. How did she handle this? With a professional smile she said, “My Flair isn’t great, and T’Ash Residence hasn’t deigned to speak with me, but if T’Blackthorn Residence wishes to I’ll make every effort to be receptive on all levels.” This job was becoming a lot of work.
    She glanced inside the MasterSuite, and her chest tightened. The furnishings were in good condition; obviously the Residence had tried to keep this suite in the best condition possible with its limited technology-spells.
    Everything was in place as if Straif’s father had just left and might return. Mitchella swallowed hard and shut the door.
    Drina was having a conversation with Straif that included whining and tail-lashing from her and firm statements from him. He stood with hands on hips, and Mitchella had no doubt they communicated mentally, too.
    â€œYes, I said I’d convert the Heir’sSuite playroom for you, and it would be the first one redone, but I’ve reconsidered.”
    Drina huddled into herself, looking small and pitiful, then raised huge blue eyes to Straif.
    His face hardened. “I