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Armond turned to Vivian, eyes wide. “You didn’t.”

Heat crept into Vivian’s cheeks. While ridiculous, Dove’s reenactment wasn’t far from the truth.

Before she could offer a denial, Dove ratted her out. “Oh, yes, she most certainly did.”

Playing the role of Liam, she dropped the boa down on her biceps, flexed her feathered muscles, and thrust out her chin, grating in a low voice, “Vivian, my love, are sure you want me to go?”

Then she released Armond and flung the boa around her neck, saying in a higher voice, “Yes, Liam. I’m sure. Dove is more than enough woman for me. Now get out of my room, you brute.”

Vivian smacked a hand to her forehead, watching Dove’s performance between her fingers.

Armond shook off the leg Dove had slung around his waist, grating, “I told you those improv classes were a bad idea.”

Dove stumbled as though he’d tossed her from a great height, looking outrageously insulted. Poor Dove. Her acting skills were even worse than her knitting.

Done playing George Burns to her Gracie Allen, Armond ditched his partner, settling next to Vivian on the bed again.

“Just like that, huh?” he asked.

“More or less.” Vivian winced. “She’s embellishing the truth, just a bit.”

Playing to her captive audience, Dove lowered the boa, hooking it beneath her bottom.

“I don’t know why you won’t teach me exotic dancing. I’m certain I’d be a natural. I mean, check out these moves.” She danced in a circle, shaking her butt, chanting, “Boom, chicka, boom, chicka, boom.” Then she paused and twirled her boa over her head like a lasso.

That did it.

Vivian’s smile spread by slow degrees from ear to ear. Warmth unfurled in her chest, banishing her anxiety. The day Dove entered her life, it was as though a dark cloud had lifted. In many ways, Dove reminded her of her younger self. The one who was wild and free, eager to experience the world. While Vivian found it difficult to share in Dove’s enthusiasm, her heart seemed lighter just being near her Chosen.

“You’re a natural, all right.” Armond smirked, no more immune to Dove’s antics than Vivian.

“I no longer dance,” Vivian defended. Sure, she’d just performed a little striptease for Liam, but she didn’t dance. Dancing was a part of her past. That ship had sailed long ago, along with her innocence.

“That’s enough, darling,” she said softly. “Time for bed.” Earlier, they’d decided a sleepover would make their deception more authentic.

Dove dropped her boa and rolled out her lower lip. “But I was just getting warmed up.”

Precisely. “If you’d like, I’ll find you a dance instructor.”

“No, thanks. Between basket weaving and ukulele lessons, I doubt I’ll have the time.”

Dove was always hungry to try something new. A consummate student of the arts, she continually flitted from one thing to the next.

Armond kissed Vivian’s cheek, then vacated her bed, saying, “Sleep well.”

“You too, darling.”

Dove took his place, sliding beneath the velvet comforter. “Good night, Armond.”

“Good night, Gracie.” He kissed Dove’s forehead and, after turning out the lights, slipped from the room.

In the silence, Dove settled next to her.

“Mmm, your aura is different tonight. The color richer, more vibrant.”

Was it? “How odd. Now go to sleep,” Dove responded with a soft smile before closing her eyes. With Dove resting peacefully beside her, Vivian exhaled a sigh, her Chosen’s sparkling presence having a far greater impact on Vivian’s well-being than her vaudeville performance.

“Don’t worry, Vivian,” Dove muttered. “Your Liam will keep the monsters at bay during the day, and I will keep watch over your dreams at night.”