When a wisp of fog blew by her she laughed and reached out her hands to it. When the wind blew she turned to it and opened her bodice, letting it caress and kiss her breasts, for she never knew when it might be him, and still she wanted nothing more than to please him utterly.

He tried to make it seem that he had stopped for some dirty talk and to savor the moment, but Anne knew that he was temporarily out of breath, that he’d started out too fast, trying to impress her.

Oh Angus,” she moaned. “Can’t you just use your…you know…your powers to clean this up?”
Angus was walking to the kitchen, wiping his face with a napkin. He laughed. “Wouldn’t that be nice?” he asked. “‘Mess: Clean yourself up!’ ‘Floor, sweep yourself and be quick about it! Anne Commands!’ No, Darling, I’m afraid it doesn’t work like that! Not like that at all!

And as she looked at the pool she saw the waters gather up into a column, rushing up foaming and standing there before her startled eyes, and turn into the form of a man.
Not a man, a god. So perfectly formed, so handsome, with such wisdom and desire in his eyes and such quiet joy on his lips. He was breathtakingly beautiful and Anne felt herself grow weak with some unnamable longing. His eyes met hers and caught her soul tight, and she could not look away as he read every thought in her mind.
“Come,” he said to her in a voice like liquid silver, “I know your mind, and it is one with mine.”
Anne could not speak, but she did not need to. Her eyebrows raised in question.
He laughed, “Why to love, of course.

I don't know you very well, and i'm almost afraid to know you better. Maybe i love you because i don't know you. Maybe if i knew what you were really like and what you wanted out of life and what you think is important, I wouldn't care for you at all and that would be the end of this.

Such a letter was not to be soon recovered from. . . . Every moment rather brought fresh agitation. It was an overpowering happiness.