"I handled you and Ali quite nicely," Dagon reminded.

"Of which I am forever grateful to you, but we're talking about you and love."

Dagon stood. "Of which I am entirely prepared. I am making plans to meet with a woman called the

Ancient One."

"Sydney mentioned something about her being very old."

"And wise," Dagon said. "She is one who would suit me well. She possesses all the qualities and more

that I want in a lifemate."

Sebastian laughed.

"What's so funny?"

"Don't bother making a list of what you want in a wife, it doesn't work that way. We're sent the one we're supposed to join with, flaws and all."

"Ali has flaws," Dagon challenged.

Sebastian stood and faced him head-on. "She most certainly does. Her biggest one being her

abilities-or lack of-in the kitchen."

They both took a moment to think that over.

"I think it's Margaret's day to go to market," Dagon said.

"I think we better get back," Sebastian suggested.

Dagon reached for the thermos. "We ordered her to stay out of the kitchen."

Sebastian shook his head. "Which means that's exactly where she is."

"Are you sure we can replicate the dough?" Ali asked.

"I have no doubt we can," Sarina a.s.sured her. "I helped Margaret blend the dough this morning and recall exactly what she did. With your help we can have another batch made in no time."

"About my help," Ali said as they entered the kitchen. "I am not very skilled in the preparation of

food."

"I'm not very skilled at all," Sarina said, "but I think we're capable of making bread."

Ali sounded skeptical. "I don't know about that."

"I'm sure you'll be fine," Sarina encouraged. "Now help me gather the necessary items."

Flour soon covered the wooden tabletop, dusted the chairs, and was sprinkled over a good portion of

the kitchen floor, not to mention the fine coat of flour that covered both Ali and Sarina.

"Recipes should be followed," Sarina attempted to explain for the umpteenth time.

"But it's all stuck together, it needs more flour," Ali insisted and tossed a handful of flour into the bowl.

Sarina held her patience. "It's suppose to be that way."

"Oh," Ali said and waved her finger over the bowl to undo what she had just done. "Has Margaret

cast a protective spell over her kitchen? My powers refuse to work here."

"Let's do the best we can on our own."

"That could prove disastrous," Ali said.

Her lack of a smile and the last thirty minutes of working with Ali warned Sarina of that distinct possibility. "I'll add more water," Ali offered and before Sarina could stop her, she spilled a half a cup into the bowl on top of the flour, sending gobs of wet flour spraying all over them.

Sarina shook her head and sighed.

"My goodness," Ali said. "Cooking certainly can be dangerous."

"I never realized just how dangerous it could be," Sarina said, regretting her words when Ali's plentiful

smile turned sorrowful.

"I'm no good in the kitchen. I try, but I never manage to succeed."

Sarina slipped her arm around her. "I'm even worse in everything I do. The only reason I know how to

do this is because Margaret had the patience to show me. It took me weeks to learn how to peel a potato or carrot without sc.r.a.ping giant chunks out of them."

"Really?" Ali asked with renewed hope.

"Really," Sarina a.s.sured her with a gentle squeeze. "Now let's take another shot at this."

"You know what I was thinking?" Ali said, hurrying over to the large refrigerator, opening the door, and grabbing a jar to hold it up. "Cherries. I love cherries. Why don't we make it cherry bread?"

Sarina nodded, not believing she agreed. But then the kitchen was already a mess, the dough a disaster-what else could possibly happen?

Dagon and Sebastian heard the startled cries as they neared the back of the castle and took off on a dead run.

"Turn it off, turn it off!" Sarina screamed.

"How? How?" Ali yelled back, the motor on the electric mixer sounding like a motorboat and drowning out their words.

Flour, milk, and gobs of dough were shooting out everywhere, hitting Sarina and Ali, the cabinets, the

walls, and even spatting against Margaret's cow clock.

Sarina attempted to approach the table and the angry machine. It spit out a wad of dough that stuck to her cheek, not to mention the gobs of the mess that already stuck to her hair and to her clothes.

She supposed she looked just as bad as Ali, who was covered from head to toe with the flying dough, was dusted with a film of flour, and looked completely at a loss of what to do next.

That's when the foolishness of their situation hit her, and she began to laugh.

Ali stared at her strange reaction, and as if finally understanding the absurdity of it all, she burst into a fit of laughter.

Dagon burst through the door first and wisely ducked as a lump of dough flew toward him, leaving it to hit Sebastian square in the forehead. Dagon laughed, though his humor was short-lived when he stood and was pelted in the face and chest with several gobs of gooey dough.

"Sarina!" he yelled and headed straight for her.

Sebastian wisely headed for the table using his arm as a shield. He grabbed for the projectile machine and rendered it helpless with the snap of a switch.

Ali held her hands up in surrender. "I thought my powers could right my wrongs, but Margaret must

have a protective spell cast over her kitchen."

"I don't think it worked," Sebastian said, taking slow steps toward his wife as he wiped the gobs of

dough from his face.

"It's all my fault," Sarina said, close to tears.

"Nonsense," Ali said. "I am absolutely clumsy in the kitchen. Sebastian knows that for a fact, and

Dagon is also well aware of my lack of cooking skills."

Sarina's concern rushed over Dagon almost causing him to shudder. He felt her vulnerability and her isolation, and he ached to take her in his arms and chase her fears away. Instead he reached out and

gently wiped a gob of dough from her cheek. "Ali made the worst mud pies as a child and has yet to improve."

Her smile, though faint, filled him with pleasure.

"Making a mess of my kitchen is one thing, Ali; making a mess of Margaret's kitchen is another,"

Sebastian warned and wiped a spot of dough from the corner of her mouth.

Ali's chin went up defiantly. "Sarina and I are not finished. The kitchen will look spotless by the time we're done." Sarina came to her defense. "Ali's right. The kitchen will be returned to its usual spotless condition." "And the bread will be rising-cherry bread," Ali said adamantly. Sebastian laughed. "This I've got to see." Dagon caught Sarina's sigh, empathizing with her momentary doubt, though she agreed with Ali. "Yes, there will be cherry bread for supper this evening." He was impressed by her fort.i.tude and courage to help a friend even when she thought the task impossible. She did not retreat or surrender; she remained strong and he was pleased by her unselfish actions. "I suppose we should leave them to their task at hand," Dagon said to Sebastian. "We can clean ourselves up and drive over to Stirling for lunch, since the kitchen is presently out of service." Sebastian kissed his wife. "Have fun, sweetheart." And he strolled out of the kitchen.

Dagon whispered near Sarina's ear, "You are quite beautiful, dear heart."

Both women stared at the retreating men. One making plans to bake cherry bread if it killed her, and one stunned by Dagon's remark and the sincerity in which it was delivered.

Fifteen.