Andy looked up at the tap on her open door and smiled. "How was your son's wedding?"
Eric smiled. "It went very well. He and Carrie are off to Fiji for their honeymoon. Thanks for covering the weekly editorial meeting yesterday. Anything important I need to know about?"
"I took notes which I put on your desk. There's also an interoffice envelope from Aimee Schaffer there, too. It contains and excerpt from a manuscript she received. She wants to make a deal for it but needs to know who the author is."
"And she's sent it to me because?"
"Mr. Weatherly said to see if any of the department heads recognized it."
"Okay. Well, I better get to work on clearing my desk."
Andy picked up her desk phone on the second ring. "Andy Sachs."
"Andy, it's Eric. I need to talk to about the Edgecombe manuscript."
"Oh, okay. When?"
"Now would be best."
"Sure. I'll be right there."
"I'm in the conference room."
"I'm on my way."
Andy hung up and headed out of her office. When she arrived at the conference room, she entered to find Eric waiting for her... but he wasn't alone. Aimee Schaffer and Charles Weatherly were also present. Then she saw her friend, Sofia Padretti, in the corner as well. Whatever she'd done, it was big enough to have to the HR manager there.
"Have a seat, Andy," Mr. Weatherly said.
"Okay," she replied nervously. She took in the serious expressions as she sat down across the table from her boss's boss. "This isn't about the Edgecombe manuscript, is it?"
"No. It's about this." Mr. Weatherly pushed a thick folder across the table toward her.
Andy opened to the folder... to find her manuscript for DragonCorps: How to Become a DragonMaster. "How? Where did you get this?"
Mr. Weatherly smiled widely. "The question is, why didn't you tell us about it?"
It took a few minutes to sink in, but Andy eventually understood that hers was the manuscript that Aimee had been so excited about at the editorial board's meeting three days earlier. Apparently, Sofia had seen the manuscript when she had been over at Andy's and had picked it up. When she couldn't stop reading it, she decided to anonymously slip it to one of the senior editors to see what she thought of it.
If Andy agreed, they wanted to publish her book!
"Please, call me Andy," she told the young woman. "What's your name?"
The harried, young production assistant had introduced herself when Andy first had arrived on the set, but Andy had been whisked into makeup so quickly that she hadn't actually caught the young woman's name.
"I'm Cindy. Are you ready? Ms. Walters is bringing you on early."
"What? I thought I had another ten minutes."
"Come with me, please," Cindy urged, grabbing Andy's hand and pulling her out of the makeup chair as the hairdresser finished with her hair. "We just went to commercial, and she wants to bring you on as soon as we come back." Cindy physically positioned Andy on a spot in the wings of the set and attached her mic and battery pack. "Stand right here and enter when they cue you."
Andy had no sooner taken a deep breath when she looked out onto the set and saw who else was sitting there beside Barbara Walters, Whoopi Goldberg, and Joy Behar... Miranda Priestly. How had she not known Miranda was going to be on same show? Why was Miranda on the same show? Suddenly Andy felt Cindy's hands on her back, pushing her forward and out of her stupor.
Somehow, Andy managed to cross the set and take a seat. They discussed Andy's bestselling books DragonCorps: How to Become a DragonMaster, DragonCorps: Dragon's Breath, and the upcoming sequel, DragonCorps: The Athyn Rebellion; Andy's heroine, Alianna and her dragon, Prath; and how her heroine had such an appeal that even top designers like Holt and Chanel were inspired to incorporate Alianna's distinctive uniform and boots into their upcoming fall lines.
That was where Miranda was drawn into the conversation. Someone also brought up the fact that Andy had once worked for Miranda as her assistant. There were smiles and gentle laughter, and then the show was finally over. Andy could not have repeated a single word of it, though, because she couldn't get over how stunning Miranda looked. Miranda didn't look a day older than she had three years previously, but somehow she was even more beautiful.
The next thing Andy realized, she and Miranda were both leaving the studio. However, she was suddenly inundated with screaming fans wanting her autograph. When Andy was almost knocked over, Miranda grabbed Andy's arm and pulled her close, wrapping a protective arm around her shoulders. Miranda guided her the few feet to her waiting car. As soon as they were safely ensconced in the backseat, Miranda ordered Roy to drive.
"Are you alright, Andréa? Have you been injured?" Miranda asked.
"I'm fine. Thank you." Andy missed the warmth of Miranda's arm around her shoulders.
"Are you always set upon by your fans in such a manner? If so, I would think you would have made arrangements for your own transportation."
Andy let out a small chuckle. "No. Actually the only time I've really had to deal with that kind of reaction has been at some book signings, and my agent always made sure there was adequate security for those events. Besides, my appearance on The View today was a last minute thing; it was never announced. I don't know how they all knew I'd be there since it was a surprise."
"I'll say," Miranda murmured in a low voice.
"And anyway, I'm meeting someone at the Mayrose Café. If you'll pull over at the next corner, I can catch a cab."
"Nonsense," Miranda declared. "Roy, take us to the Mayrose Café," she ordered.
"That's not necessary, Miranda."
"Perhaps not, but it's already being handled." Miranda paused as she seemed to take Andy's measure. "I wondered what had happened to you for a while. I'd received a few requests for references. Why the Mirror never hired you I'll never know. They must be idiots over there," she pronounced.
Andy couldn't quite suppress an amused smile. "Actually, they did offer me a job, but I turned it down."
The car came to a stop, and Andy realized they had arrived at the Mayrose. "That's a discussion for another time and place – one I look forward to having with you," she said as she reached for the door handle. "Give me a call so we can arrange a time to get together and talk. Thank you for the ride, Miranda."
Andy got out of the car and entered the café. With a smile, she watched as Miranda's car pulled away. There was no doubt the older woman still made her heart race, but she wasn't the same disillusioned, young woman she'd been three years earlier. Like Miranda, she'd taken on the world on her own terms. She was her own woman, her own master. And she had just placed the ball squarely in Miranda's court.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the voice of Darren Saddler.
"Are you going come sit down, Andy, or are you going to just stand there staring out the window all day?"
She turned and smiled at her agent. Then she mock-frowned and shook her finger at him as she approached the table. "I should fire you for what you did to me this morning."
"What? I got you on The View this morning when Kristine Rusch had to cancel at the last minute."
"Don't try to play innocent with me," she said as she sat down. "You know exactly what I'm talking about. Why the hell didn't you tell me Miranda Priestly was going to be on the show, too?"
He smirked. "And how is Miranda?"
Andy sighed and waited until the waitress filled her coffee cup and left them alone before answering. "Just as beautiful as ever."
"Now who's trying to play innocent? Did you talk to her or not?"
"I talked to her – she gave me a ride here."
"So did you tell her?"
"Tell her what?"
Darren threw his hands up in exasperation. "Good grief, girl, this is like pulling teeth. You and I both know you're in love with the woman. You've told me time and time again why you walked away from her in Paris, how you wanted to make it on your own terms. How you realized you could never be with her unless it was as an equal, which you couldn't be while working for her. Well, you have made it, you are an equal, and you did it on your own terms. Now, are you going to tell Miranda why you walked away and how you feel about her?"
Andy stared into her coffee a few moments before replying. "I don't know."
"Are you still in love with her?"
"Then tell her."
"It's not that simple, Darren. I don't know if she's even given me a thought these last three years, much less if she'd ever think of me in that way. Anyway, it's up to her at this point."
"What do you mean?"
"I told Miranda to call me to arrange a time to get together to talk. So if she's at all interested in talking with me, she'll call. If not, I'll never hear from her." She took a sip of her coffee. "Now, what did you want to talk about?" she asked, deliberately changing the subject.
"They're moving up the release date of Athyn Rebellion by a week, so I've been juggling your schedule around a bit. You're about to get very, very busy. And," he looked at his watch, "I've got someone I want you to meet."
"He should be here any moment."
"He? Have you met someone, Darren?" Andy asked with a grin. "Am I going to meet you new boyf..." her voice trailed off as the door to the café opened and in walked a ruggedly handsome man. As soon as he made eye contact with Darren he smiled and walked over to their table.
"Andy, I'd like you to meet Sam Bridgeman. Sam, this is Andrea Sachs."
Sam smiled brightly as he shook her hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you."
"Sam is your new personal assistant," declared Darren.
"What?! I don't need a personal assistant," she objected.
"Trust me, you will. Sam here is not only the best, he'll also be able to handle getting you through the crowds – and there will be crowds."
She shook her head as she remembered the crowd outside the studio that morning. "Speaking of which, how the heck did so many people know I was going to be on The View this morning when it was such a last minute deal?"
"You tweeted. Well, I tweeted for you."
"I don't have a Twitter account."
"You do now. And it's just one of the things that Sam will take care of for you as your personal assistant."
As much success Andy enjoyed with her first two books, she was catapulted into the stratosphere when her third book came out. Her appearance on The View was just the beginning. Once DragonMaster: The Athyn Rebellion hit the shelves, it sold out in record time.
And Darren had been right – everywhere she went there were crowds. If not for Sam, Andy would have been overwhelmed. He was large enough that he was able to muscle a throughway in the crowds to usher her in and out of wherever she needed to go. Sam was also indispensible as her personal assistant. He acted as a buffer, taking care of all but the most important things, leaving Andy able to focus on the task at hand, which was usually preparing for yet another interview or book signing. If not for Sam, Andy would have been inundated with appearance requests, phone calls, and fan mail.
Andy had to get a separate number to give only to her closest friends and family so that they could get a hold of her. And as it was, Sam still had to occasionally screen calls that came in on that line.
Which was why she didn't know that Miranda had been trying to call and talk to her for some time, not until she happened to overhear Sam on the phone one day.
She was actually staying in a beach house on Saint Martin. Darren had arranged for it when she'd complained of not being able to think clearly enough to work on her fourth DragonMaster book. Getting away from everything after all of the talk shows, book signings, and other publicity events for The Athyn Rebellion had been just what she'd needed. Her parents had joined her for a few days, and they'd made a family vacation of it. After her family left, she had her friends, Lily, Katy, and Sophia join her for a week of fun in the sun. Then, it was time for Andy to put her head down and get to work.
Andy set her laptop aside, picked up her empty glass, and headed into the kitchen. As she poured herself some iced tea, she overheard Sam on the phone.
"Yes, I will make note of your call... No, I do not toss out her messages... If you could tell me what it is you wish to discuss with Ms. Sachs perhaps–" Sam rolled his eyes as he was cut off.
Andy smiled, because she knew all too well what it was like to be in his shoes. She was infinitely grateful to Darren for insisting, despite her resistance, on hiring Sam. Sam had proven a real godsend. And because of her own experiences, his Christmas bonus was going to reflect that fact, too.
"Well, if you really were that good a friend of Ms. Sachs, you'd know her name is Andrea not Andréa, and you'd have her private number. Good day." Sam hung up the phone and took a deep breath. Even he had his limits.
Andy's eyes went round. "Did you just hang up on Miranda Priestly?"
Sam looked at her. "How did you know who it was?"
"Because she's the only one who's ever called me Andréa." She chuckled. "I can't believe you just hung up on her."
"Because she's Miranda Priestly." At his look of total lack of comprehension she elaborated. "She's the editor-in-chief of Runway magazine. She's only the icon of the fashion industry."
Sam shrugged. "And you're Andy Sachs, the author of the best-selling and hottest novels on the market. You've been on talk shows all around the world, and actors are already clamoring to play your lead characters even though a movie deal has yet to be made."
She smiled at Sam's loyalty. "How many times has Miranda called?"
"She's only called three or four times. Though she did have someone else call for her before that."
Andy was surprised. She couldn't recall any time Miranda had personally called someone other than the twins. Miranda even had her assistants call Stephen to give him messages. So the fact that she was calling Andy personally – multiple times – was a real shock.
"Let me have the number, Sam."
"Here you go," he said, holding out a slip of paper to her.
Andy took the number and walked back out onto the patio. She dialed the number as she sat back down next to the pool.
"Miranda? It's me, Andy."
"Andréa. Where are you?" Miranda immediately demanded.
"I'm in Saint Martin."
"What is your address there?"
She reflexively gave the woman her address before thinking about it. "Why do you need to know my address?"
"Stay right there, Andréa."
Andy looked at the phone in her hand in dismay – Miranda had just hung up on her. Then she started to chuckle because it was so typically Miranda.
She shouldn't have been, but Andy was surprised when Sam escorted a guest out onto the patio less than four hours later.
"You have a visitor, Andy."
She hit SAVE before looking up to see none other than Miranda Priestly standing there looking at her.
"What are you doing here?"
"You said to call so that we could arrange to get together and talk. I called." She paused for a beat. "Several times," she added with a pointed look at Sam, who still conspicuously stood a few feet away with his arms crossed, watching and listening.
Andy bit her lip to keep from smiling as she took in Miranda's pursed lips. She gestured for the older woman to have a seat. "I'm sorry about that, Miranda. That's not Sam's fault; he was just doing his job. Things suddenly got very crazy for me right after I saw you. Sam has had to screen all of my correspondence and phone calls, and I've had to get a private number just for family and close friends. Even so, I've barely had time to breathe, and it's been downright impossible to find any privacy or peace and quiet. Which is why my agent made arrangements for me to stay here for a while. I apologize for any... misunderstanding."
Miranda's spine seemed to relax just a tiny bit. "Yes, well... I suppose you have been," she hesitated a moment as if searching for the right words, "rather busy. One can scarcely turn on the television without seeing one interview or another of you." Miranda glanced around as if looking for something. "Well, is there nothing to drink in this tropical paradise?"
"Oh! Oh course. What would you like, Miranda? Coffee? Tea? Lemonade?"
"I don't suppose you have any Pellegrino," she replied with a sigh.
"Actually, I think we may. Sam, would you see if we have any Pellegrino, please?"
"Sure thing, Andy."
"By all means, take your time," Miranda's voice trailed after Sam as she finally sat down in one of the other chairs on the patio. Her tongue was as sharp as ever, but to Andy's eye, Miranda moved with just a little less than her usual grace, as if she were tired or stressed out.
Sam quickly returned and then excused himself. "If that's all, I'm going over to Philippe's for dinner. I have my phone with me, so if you need anything, Andy, just call me."
"I will. Tell Philippe I said hello and have a nice evening."
Andy returned her attention to her guest. She was vacillating between the nervousness that being around Miranda always made her feel and the knowledge that she wasn't the same person she was when she had walked away from Miranda three years previously; between the shock of Miranda showing up in Saint Martin and the satisfaction of finally facing Miranda as an equal.
She took a moment to run an evaluating eye over the Dragon Lady. Miranda Priestly was elegance and power personified. Though of average height, she always seemed larger than life. But sitting there, silently sipping mineral water on the patio of a beach house, there was something more shining through her blue eyes, something more etched in the cant of her shoulders. Or perhaps Andy was just seeing more clearly now that her perspective had changed.
Surprised that Miranda has allowed the undisguised evaluation without comment, Andy finally broke the silence that hung between them. "Miranda, where were you when you called earlier?"
"Miami." The older woman looked away. "I had managed to determine your location was somewhere in the Caribbean; however, no one seemed willing or able to narrow it down any further, not even Emily. Anyway, I borrowed Donatella's jet and flew down to Miami. I was waiting there until I received word of your exact location."
Her eyebrows climbed up her forehead. "Let me get this straight. You borrowed Donatella's jet, flew to Miami, and waited until you heard back from me?"
Miranda picked at some nonexistent lint on her slacks rather than meeting Andy's eyes.
Andy was surprised to see some pink suddenly color the other woman's cheeks, and she could have sworn she heard Miranda mutter something that sounded suspiciously like mountain and Mohammed. She frowned, trying to figure out why the woman was acting strangely. Miranda Priestly didn't get nervous or blush, and she certainly didn't fly halfway across the country and just wait on the chance that she would hear back from someone.
If it had been anyone but Miranda, Andy would have thought that maybe the other woman was trying to deal with the same kind of feelings that she had for Miranda. But that didn't make any sense.
That thought brought Andy up short. Three years ago she would have sworn that Miranda Priestly was incapable of feeling anything for anyone – other than her children. But three years ago Andy was a bit more naïve about a few things. She remembered sitting in the Mayrose Café and telling Lily that she'd grown up a little during the time she'd worked for Miranda. Well, she'd grown up a lot more in the three years since.
A small smile graced Andy's lips as she stood. "It's almost dinnertime. Would you care to join me, Miranda? You're welcome to keep me company while I fix us something to eat or to sit out here by the pool. Or if you prefer, I can show you to a guest room where you can rest or freshen up."
Miranda stood. "I had a chance to rest on the flight down."
"So, where are the twins?" she asked as she led the way into the house.
"They're on holiday with their father."
Andy found the routine of preparing their meal relaxing, despite the fact that Miranda had decided to perch on a stool at the end of the kitchen island and silently watch her every move. Finally, Andy set a plate in front of Miranda. On it was a lightly seared tuna steak on a bed of wild rice, drizzled with a light soy, ginger, and lime sauce, with a side of some fresh, steamed cauliflower and broccoli florets. She poured a little bit of wine into a glass from the bottle she had already decanted and handed it to Miranda, giving her the honor of taste-testing it.
Miranda accepted the wineglass and the gesture of respect. She closed her eyes and gently swirled the red liquid in the glass as she drew in the wine's bouquet. She then brought the glass to her lips and took a small sip, allowing the wine to tease her taste buds for a few seconds before swallowing. The curling of her lips let Andy know she'd chosen well as did the sparkle in her blue eyes when she opened them.
"That must be a 1999 vintage Burgundy," Miranda stated as the curling of her lips turned into a genuine smile.
Andy returned her smile. "Yes, it is." She turned the bottle to show the label as she replied. "Nuits St Georges, Clos la Maréchale Domaine Faiveley."
Andy poured both of them a glass and then sat on the other stool. "I'm glad you like it."
Miranda took a bite of her tuna steak again smiled. "This is very good, Andréa. I had no idea you were such a good cook."
"I don't cook a lot, but I did manage to pick up a few tips from Nate when we were dating," she replied with a smile.
"Well, what time you have devoted in kitchen has been well spent. This is an excellent meal."
After Andy rinsed the dishes in the sink she opened another bottle of wine and refilled her glass. Taking the bottle with her, she walked outside and stood next to Miranda where she leaned her hip against the column of the patio, gazing out at the beach and the waves.
"It's peaceful here," Miranda said softly.
"Yes, it is. Would you like a refill?" Andy asked.
Andy refilled the other woman's wineglass before turning and taking a seat on one of the chaise lounges. She set the bottle on a small nearby table. After a few moments, Miranda turned and rested her back against the column.
"You came a long ways down here to see me, Miranda. What did you want to talk about?" Andy finally asked.
"Actually, it was you who said you looked forward to having a discussion with me. You then requested that I call so that we could arrange a time to do so." Miranda gestured vaguely to indicate their present location. "We're here now." She paused as she pushed away from the column and moved to sit in the chaise nearest to Andy's. "So, why did you turn down the job at the Mirror? You had clearly indicated your interests were in journalism."
Andy took a slow breath as she ordered her thoughts. "I turned it down because of the reference you gave them."
She regretted her words as soon as she realized that she'd wounded Miranda with them. Hurt flashed behind those beautiful blue eyes before Miranda turned away, her jaw muscles tightening. Andy mentally kicked herself for not wording it better. She sat up, reaching out and placing her hand on Miranda's forearm.
"Please, let me explain," she urged.
Miranda didn't meet her eyes, but she did give an almost imperceptible nod.
Andy gave Miranda's arm a gentle squeeze before letting go. She shifted, moving to sit on the edge on Miranda's chaise facing her, even though Miranda kept her eyes cast downward. "Do you remember what you said to me that day in Paris... in the car, after the Holt luncheon?"
"That I saw I great deal of myself in you. That you were able to see beyond what people want and need, you could choose for yourself."
"And I disagreed with you."
"Even though I was right," Miranda said softly.
Andy didn't reply right away. She waited until Miranda looked up at her before agreeing. "Yes, even though you were right. I did make certain choices to get ahead. You were right about that. And you were right about other things as well. I didn't see it at the time, but you actually helped Nigel by your actions. Holt International nearly went under with Jacqueline Follet as creative director, proving once and for all that she could not have done your job, 'the list' notwithstanding. While in the meantime you promoted Nigel from art director to creative director of Runway, giving him an even more impressive resume and making him the obvious choice to come in and rescue Holt International from ruin when Jacqueline left in disgrace."
At Miranda's surprised look, Andy smiled affectionately. "I may have left Runway, but New York is still a small place when you know the right people."
"Sometimes a person must take a longer view of things."
"I agree. Which brings me back around to why I turned down the job at the Mirror. You were right about me, Miranda. I did want this life; I do want it," she said with a loose gesture at their surroundings. "But what I know about myself, what I knew even then, was that I had to get here on my own terms. I needed to do things my way. That's why I walked away in Paris. That's why I turned down the job at the Mirror. That's why I went back to the drawing board and started over from scratch. Not because of anything you said or did, but because it was something I had to do – for me."
The corner of Miranda's mouth twitched. "You're even more like me than I realized."
Andy nodded. "You were more right about me than you knew," she said with a smile. "Which is why, regardless of what did or didn't happen in Paris, I couldn't have continued to work for you... especially not with the way I felt about you." She paused as she caught and held Miranda's eyes. "Not with the way I feel about you."
"Feel a-about me. I don't understand."
"Don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about. Playing dumb doesn't suit you, Miranda."
Andy reached up and gently cupped Miranda's cheek, before slowly leaning in and pressing her lips against the other woman's. At the first soft touch of their lips, she felt her heart skip a beat... but then she felt it drop only half a moment later when Miranda didn't respond. Andy sat back and gave a sad nod while suppressing a sigh.
"I'm sorry," she said softly.
Andy stood and walked into the house. She needed the space to regain her equilibrium. She splayed her hands on the cool granite of the kitchen island and leaned on them, dropping her head. She closed her eyes as she drew in slow, steadying breaths. She didn't regret taking the chance.
She lifted her head and turned to face Miranda. "I'm sor–"
Miranda cut her off, "I don't want your apology." She pinched the bridge of her nose a moment as she took a deep breath. "Why?" she finally asked.
"Why did I kiss you? Because I love you. Because I've been in love with you for over three years."
"No, I understand why you kissed me. Why do you love me? I'm a–"
"You're strong-willed, independent, stubborn, bossy," she smiled at Miranda's sigh and continued, "smart, accomplished, beautiful, talented, elegant, and sexy."
"I'm 53 years old."
Andy's smile widened into a grin. "Did I mention I like older women?"
"But I'm too old."
"For what? For me? You don't get to decide that – only I do. I make my own choices, Miranda. I'm my own woman. I don't work for you, you're not my mother, and I don't owe you anything."
Miranda's eyes widened as realization sunk in.
Anything Andy could have gotten from Miranda, she had gone out and gotten on her own. There was nothing Miranda could offer her that she couldn't get for herself.
Andy closed the distance between them. "I love you, Miranda, for who you are, just as you are. There's nothing I want or need from you."
"Then what could you possibly want?"
"Just you, Miranda."
"That's it? Just me?"
Andy smiled. "You. But let me warn you now, I mean all of you."
A smile threatened to play across Miranda's lips. "You may regret that."
"I doubt it." She once again leaned in and pressed her lips to Miranda's. Her heart trip hammered as the lips under hers responded. Andy brought her arms up and slipped them around Miranda, gently pulling her body against her own as she slipped her tongue between Miranda's lips. Their tongues met, sliding against each other.
Andy felt Miranda place her two hands on her chest just above her breasts... and then suddenly push her away. She opened her eyes to see what appeared to be confusion in those beautiful blue eyes as Miranda fought to catch her breath. As if approaching a skittish animal, she took a slow step forward and spoke softly.
"Miranda." She gently took the older woman's hand in her own. "I would never impose myself on you. If you don't want this, then it's done."
She swallowed and nodded. "I understand. It's okay." She tried to let go of her hand, but Miranda tightened her grip.
"No, I don't mean no. I mean–" Miranda let out a small huff of frustration as she tried to find the right words to express herself. She closed her eyes and took a couple of slow breaths.
When Miranda opened her eyes and looked into Andy's, it took Andy's breath away. Gone were any and all walls that Miranda Priestly had built to protect herself over the years. She was laid completely bare and vulnerable. This was the Miranda that no one got to see. It was the only thing that Andy wanted from Miranda... and it was the only thing Miranda had never given to anyone before.
Andy reached up and tenderly cupped Miranda's cheek. Then she smiled, placed a kiss on Miranda's other cheek, and turned, leading her love to the master bedroom by pulling on the hand that still clasped hers.
As Andy lay Miranda on the bed, she realized just how desperately she had wished to become a DragonMaster to this particular dragon. She was humbled by the gift Miranda was bestowing on her, this willingness to form what Andy knew would become a connection no one would be able to break. Shifting her thoughts to the beautiful woman beneath her, Andy vowed to never take this bond for granted. Just like Alianna, Andy would love her silver-haired dragon, her own Prath, until the day she died. Finally, she had Miranda in arms; Andy would do everything in her power to make sure Miranda would never wish to leave them.
This entry was originally posted at http://dhamphir.dreamwidth.org/187583.html.