Disclaimer: This chapter and all chapters after contain characters that were made by the genius of writing, Meg Cabot. The plot is mine, though.

Chapter Three

That night I watched her sleep as I had done so many nights in the past. I lay on her bed, staring at her, wishing that I could somehow touch her again . . . just to brush a single finger down her cheek would be sufficient . . . just a single brush of her lips. As if she could sense my presence, her eyes fluttered opened and she sighed, a small smile played about her face. "Querida," I whispered. I knew my hand would brush straight through, yet still I tried to tuck her hair behind her ear. She did it for me.

"I was hoping you would come," she whispered. "That guy, Paul, he was one of my servants—he was one of the ones whom I asked to find the golden lamp."

"I believe it's safe to say he found it," I teased, even though it was no laughing matter. I had been so close to having her as my master again—she was my one true master—I longed to pull her into my arms.

"And he actually thinks I would want to wed him . . . why would I marry a man who has stolen right from under my nose; I commissioned him to find that lamp and he kept it for himself!" Susannah's breathing became shallow and rapid.

"Calm down, my princess," I said. "It will do no good to let your anger rule you."

"What do you expect me to do, Jesse? You were so close to being mine again, yet now I'm laying here beside you and I cannot even touch you! I want you to hold me once again; I want to feel your arms around me." My face fell at her words; I could no longer grant her wishes. I could do nothing for her. My very presence was causing her pain.

"I will leave you now."

"No!" Her hands clutched at air where my arm should have been. "Please don't leave me." I could deny her nothing.

"You're shivering." I brought the blanket up against her chin and wrapped it tightly around her body.

"I could almost feel you then." She said. So I wrapped my arms tighter around the blankets and I, too, could almost feel her. She sighed deeply, her eyes fluttered shut. "I'm scared," she breathed; her lips were a whisper from mine, but they could never touch. "Paul has charmed my parents and he has tried to charm me, but every time I look into his eyes, I see such coldness; it stabs fear into my heart."

"I was like that once," I admitted. Her eyes shot open.

"That's hard to believe, every time I look into your eyes, I see only warmth and goodness and tenderness."

"A few millennia as a genie will change your worldview on many things."

She looked into my eyes for a long time before saying, "You have never told me about your life as a mortal."

"It is but a distant memory," I answered simply. "My attitude was much like Paul's. I was calculating and cold; I thought I knew best. I took whatever advantages I could find to gain power."

"What were your three wishes?" The wishes one made told you a lot about the character of the person. I was ashamed of the wishes I had made.

"My final one, you know . . . I wished this entrapment upon myself. The first two were inconsequential: a wish to be the ruler of all the lands—which gave me both money and power—and a wish for an endless supply of harems, which is different from love; I had hoped to satisfy my lust. But there was something missing . . . I thought that perhaps if I became a genie I would have the power to grant my every wish and somehow find what I was missing."

"But you couldn't?"

"I was trapped into granting everybody's own wishes. My wishes could never be filled. I felt resentment for my first few masters; I regret to say that I twisted their wishes around; they believed that I was a curse. But my resentment ebbed into impassivity and understanding. Yet it wasn't until I met you that I learned to feel again; it was through you that I found what I had been missing." Her eyes were overflowing with tears; I had not wanted her to cry. "Please don't cry," I whispered.

"Sorry."

"Don't be sorry."

"Not about the tears, but about not setting you free."

"Don't be ridiculous," I scoffed. "We have been through this beforequerida. It was either your life, or a freedom I would have had no clue what to do with. You life is innumerably more precious."

"I could have done it before then, though. But I was being selfish! I wanted to keep you to myself."

"Well, if you were selfish than so was I. I didn't want you to make that final wish either. Fate was telling me to urge you to make it, but I ignored Fate's call."

"But why?" She wiped the tears off her face and looked up at me; shadows reflected from her emerald eyes. "I thought you wanted to be free."

"All I truly wanted was to stay by your side and I didn't have a clue as to what would happen when you set me free. I could have been transported back to my own time without a single memory of you. I could have reverted back to the person I was before I made my last wish. I could have—"

"I get the point," she giggled. "I think you were over-thinking the freedom thing a bit. I was just afraid that with all your unrestrained power, you would not want to stay with me anymore. I figured it would be a bit hard to find true freedom if your last master was always around. Besides, I would eventually get old and ugly and you'd always stay young and gorgeous."

"Ah, my Susannah, you could never be ugly; perhaps if we had communicated a bit more. I would have told you that I could never leave your side. The hold you have on me is far more powerful than any lamp has ever had."

"I love you." She said it so softly that at first I was not sure if I had heard her correctly. But when I saw her nervous smile and the way she looked at me, her eyes full of so much emotion and hope, I knew the words to be true.

"I have always loved you my querida."

We lay side-by-side for a long time in silence; I took one of my hands and hovered it over her face, giving the illusion of touch. Perhaps neither of us could feel it, but we both thought that we thought we could feel it. Suddenly, though, she broke out in giggles.

"Something you would like to share, my love?" I asked.

"No," she laughed. "It's just . . . harems! Honestly, Jesse!"

"I was young and foolish, what can I say? I didn't have a beautiful princess to fill my heart."

"How long have you been around anyway?"

"I have lost track of the time, but when I was alive, magic was common and genies were accepted."

"So a really long time then . . ." she smiled slightly before a frown marred her face. "I was just wondering . . ."

"You can ask me anything, querida."

"If you could go back again and do it all over, would you have still wished to be a genie?"

I stared at her for a long moment before speaking my heart. "If I had not made that final wish, I would have never found you, and if I had never found you, my soul would have never been complete. To be with you for just a whisper of time is worth living all of eternity in captivity."

Her eyes widened and I saw the tears were threatening to emerge again. She leaned over, as if to kiss me, but the kiss did not come. "Oh damn it!" she suddenly hollered, throwing the pillow at my head—it had no trouble making contact. "I just want to kiss you, is that to much to ask for?"

"Trust me, Susannah. I would never willfully deny you that pleasure." Mirth had filled my eyes when her eyes had flared in anger.

"Stupid Fate," she muttered before looking up at the ceiling. "I made a wish, shouldn't you have kept it!"

"It will do no good arguing with Fate," I replied. "You will just anger it."

"I still want to kiss you though," she muttered, wrinkling her nose in the process. She suddenly let out a long yawn.

"You're tired," I whispered. "Go to sleep."

"I'd rather talk with you."

"Close your eyes or I'll leave." Even as I said the words, I knew they were a lie. I would never willfully leave her side unless she banished me herself.

"No you won't," she mumbled, but nevertheless she closed her eyes and soon her breathing turned even. And as I lay there, I watched her sleep . . . my hand hovering above her smooth, alabaster cheek.

Cassandra