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Everett's mother strode forward and embraced Callista before she could form a complete sentence.

"You restored our son to us." The older woman's voice broke as she hugged Callista tight.

"I thought I'd never see him again, but then you came, and now our family is mended.

" She pulled back and looked Callista directly in the eyes.

"You have more than our approval, my dear.

You have our deepest gratitude." She stepped back and lifted a lacy handkerchief to her eye. "Tell her, Bradley."

Everett's father stepped forward and dipped his head.

"Quite right, Miss Rosenfeld. We couldn't be more delighted at the prospect of joining our two families.

In fact, your father and I have been corresponding about a particular storefront in Graham that I've recently acquired.

He thinks it will serve well as the new home of Rosenfeld's Bindery.

And frankly, after seeing the exceptional quality of your work on display in my son's library, I am quite eager to invest in your family's company. "

Hearing her father's shuffling step behind her, Callista closed her gaping mouth and spun to face the man who'd proven to be more secretly conniving than she would have ever guessed him capable. "You knew about this?"

His eyes twinkled, the sparkle made all the merrier by the sunlight gleaming on the wire rims of his glasses.

"I did. Your young man wrote to ask for my permission to court you a fortnight ago—permission I gave quite readily, you should know.

Even before his father hatched the wild scheme of moving the bindery to Graham. "

"But, Papa. What about the clientele we've built up? We can't expect them just to follow us. Graham is lovely, but there are no colleges or normal schools there. How will the business survive?"

Papa's grin only widened as he cast a look past her. "Told you she had a good head on her shoulders, didn't I, Bradley?"

Everett's father chuckled softly as he moved to join them.

"That you did, Mordecai." He turned to Callista.

"Your father mentioned to me that his true passion has always been the artistic side of book binding, so I proposed that we change your current business model from catering to educational facilities where your focus is mainly on repairs, to a shop that specializes in custom designs for a more elite clientele.

I can take samples of your work back to New York to entice new clients from among our acquaintances, and my wife can offer her artistic talents to customizing designs for clients based on their individual tastes. "

Everett's mother moved to her husband's side.

"Everett told me how you worked with him to create a custom look for his covers.

I found the entire process quite intriguing.

If I can take samples of the different stamps and embellishments you offer home with me, I think I could convince many of the ladies I interact with to customize covers for their personal libraries.

I could send you sketches along with the books to be recovered, and you could bring our vision to life. "

Callista blinked. Was Everett's mother actually excited about going into business?

Weren't socialites only supposed to concern themselves with planning parties and the occasional charitable endeavor?

She looked to Everett, who offered a small shrug that seemed to indicate he'd been just as surprised but had had time to get used to the idea.

He worked his way to Callista's side and placed his hand into the curve of her back. Warmth traveled through her in a delicious wave. How she'd missed him!

"Show her your sketches, Mother."

Mrs. Griffin blushed. "Oh, don't be silly. They are amateurish at best. It will take time for me to get my bearings with this new medium."

"Sketches?" Callista looked from Everett to his mother.

"Of cover designs? I'd love to see them.

" She smiled, hoping to encourage the woman who just might be her mother-in-law one day.

Besides, if this new business model was going to work, she needed to know that the designs promised would not be too ornate or difficult to reproduce.

"All right. But these are very preliminary." Paper crinkled as she pulled a folded sheet from her handbag. "I thought to do something feminine, thinking of what a lady of means might desire."

She unfolded a pair of pages and handed them to Callista.

The first used leafy patterns to craft what could easily be interpreted as an English garden blossoming along the edges to form an oval in the center.

An oval framing a single, perfect rose. The large petals cupped upward in delicate lines simple enough to be tooled in a rich, red leather.

The second page showed a drawing of a book's spine, the design a less-embellished version of the cover, broken up into three sections, top, middle, and bottom, with space left for the book's title and author.

"These are beautiful , Mrs. Griffin. I can already picture this on mahogany leather with gold embossing."

"You don't think it's too ornate?"

"We might need to thin out some of the vines so that we don't lose the fine detail, but—"

"Hand over those sketches, Callie." Papa chuckled as he gave her side a poke with his thumb.

"You have more important things to do at the moment.

" He cast a meaningful glance at Everett that sent fire rushing to her cheeks.

He turned to Mrs. Griffin. "How would you like a tour of the shop, Mrs. Griffin?

I can show you how to bring that very design to life. "

Mrs. Griffin took his proffered arm without hesitation. "Bradley and I would enjoy that very much. Wouldn't we, Bradley?"

"Yes, yes. Lead on, Mordecai." Mr. Griffin raised an arm toward the back room. "Can't go into business with a man without seeing where he works."

The three made a production of leaving that would have been comical had Callista's belly not been a tangle of nerves. It didn't help that Everett left her side as well. However, he moved in the opposite direction, going to the front door and turning the sign to read Closed .

When he pivoted back to her, his roguish bravado fell away, and a sweet vulnerability entered his gaze.

"Callista. I don't want you to feel trapped by any of this.

I took a lot of liberties without asking your opinion.

Lightfoot encouraged me to find a way to give you what you needed—a way to stay close to your father, assurance that you wouldn't impede my relationship with my family, a way to continue your craft, should you desire to do so.

Yet, if you truly wish not to marry me, all the changes I've set in motion can be undone.

Well, except for my relationship with my parents.

I plan to continue corresponding with them and encouraging them to visit.

Shoot, I might even work up the courage to visit them one of these days.

" He glanced down as he rubbed the back of his neck.

A mist formed over Callista's eyes, but she blinked it away as she rushed forward and flung herself into the arms of the man she loved. He caught her with ease, just as she knew he would. And when his palms splayed across her back and clasped her to his chest, she sighed in utter bliss.

Tipping her head up to him, she beamed a smile that reflected a mere fraction of the joy shining in her heart.

"Of course I'll marry you. How could I not, when you found such a beautiful way for us to be together?

My mind is still reeling, trying to believe all that I've seen and heard in the last few minutes.

It feels like a dream. A magical, wonderful dream. "

Everett bent his head to nuzzle the side of her face with his cheek.

"The moment I walked through that door and saw you again, I thought my heart had stopped.

I've longed for you every day we were apart, and yet somehow, I still wasn't prepared for the reality of beholding you in person.

It seemed you'd grown even more beautiful, your smile brighter, your eyes more expressive, and old insecurities reared their heads.

I feared that outside the enchantment of Manticore Manor, you'd see only a beast and want nothing to do with him. "

Callista's heart panged at his admission.

She leaned backward just far enough to get him to lift his head.

Then, when his face was before her, she cupped his jaw with both her hands.

His eye widened as she rubbed the pads of her thumbs gently over the bumps and grooves of the scars around his lips and cheeks.

"I've never seen a beast when I look at you, Everett. I've only ever seen a man. And as I've grown to love you, I've come to see a man equal to any fairy tale prince. Noble and brave. Generous and kind. Protective and loving."

A tear pooled at the base of his eye, making the blue iris shimmer with a brightness that melted her heart.

"I make my living by crafting beautiful book covers, but I know better than anyone that it's not the cover that makes a person love a book.

A pretty cover might be admired and put on display, but it doesn't stir the heart.

Only the story or knowledge captured within the pages can make one fall in love and return to a book again and again.

Think of your Bible, the cover worn and tattered in places.

Yet, I'd wager you value that Bible more than any of the other books in your collection.

It's not the cover that inspires love, Everett.

It's what's inside. And the man I see before me inspires a love so deep, it will never run dry. "

Stretching up on tiptoes, she slid her fingers around his neck and tugged his face close to hers.

She fit her lips to his as her eyes fluttered closed.

He startled, drawing his face slightly away from hers, but she shoved aside her embarrassment and pursued him.

Wanting to eradicate his doubts and needing him to believe in her love.

He held himself still and stiff, as if afraid he'd scare her away should he reveal his own passion.

But he should know by now that she didn't scare easily.

She brushed her mouth against his once, twice, three times.

Her pulse picked up speed with each tiny stroke. Yet Everett remained frozen.

Perhaps she was doing it wrong. Never having kissed a man, she had no idea what to do or how long to prolong the encounter.

So she pulled back slightly to search his face for any clues that might offer instruction.

His eye was closed, his face a mask of concentration, as if he were memorizing every clumsy attempt she made.

Surely, he knew more about kissing than she did.

If he would just take the lead like he had when they'd waltzed.

"Kiss me, Everett," she whispered. "Please."

As if her words unlocked his self-imposed restraints, he unleashed his desire in magnificent magnitude.

He pulled her tight against his chest and cupped the back of her head in one hand, holding her face at the perfect angle to accept his kiss.

And what a kiss! His lips moved over hers with a hunger that stole her breath.

Yet the kiss gave more than it took—rich in adoration, tenderness, and love.

His long fingers set her nape to tingling as they tunneled into her upswept hair, and when he deepened the kiss, she gladly accepted his tutelage and returned his kiss with all the amazement and love blooming inside her heart.

A small growl rumbled through him as his mouth lifted then immediately returned for another taste.

The sound had her smiling against his lips, joy springing forth like a geyser in her soul.

Perhaps there was something to be said for having a husband with a few beastly tendencies.

A lifetime of passionate kisses and a love as fierce and strong as the mighty manticore himself—she couldn't imagine a happier ending to their story.