DRINK THIS
The heavy door swung closed behind Freya with a thud of finality. She shivered, finding the shelter cold even in the midly hot afternoon. She rubbed her arms nervously. Aiden whirled a cape around her, enveloping her in warmth, in his woodsy, masculine scent. He strode across the marble floor to throw open the doors to the library. Within minutes he had a fire roaring. He indicated a chair near the flames. It was high-backed, deep cushioned, an antique, yet curiously not worn.
Freya studied the room with awe. It was large, with a beautiful hardwood floor, each parquet piece a part of a larger mosaic. On three sides there were floor-to-ceiling shelves, completely filled with books, most leather bound, many very old. The chairs were comfortable, the small table, in between the chairs, an antique in perfect condition. The chessboard was marble, the pieces uniquely carved.
"Drink this." Aiden said, appraising her with his eyes.