Rhiannon's POV
Rhiannon's mind was spinning. The relief and anger at spotting John hiding in the little convenience store section of the outpost. The fury of listening to him try to reason that they shouldn't be together. The relief when he had taken her into his arms and carried her inside.
John sat her on the kitchen counter. He turned to dig something out of the fridge.
Panting, Rhiannon looked around the house, or what she could see of it from her perch. There was a massive wall of windows opening to where the late afternoon sun danced across the river.
"I've done a few renovations since the last time you were probably here," John called over his shoulder. "What do you think?"
"Has anyone ever taught you the word 'gauche'?"
Black and white marble and a thousand touches of gold accents made the house glitter in the light reflected in off the water.