WE PASS THE DAY IN FAMILIAL COMPANIONSHIP: DAD, Trish, Frey and I. A trip next door to meet the horses (and the neighbors, of course; they are almost as excited about the wedding as my family). A trip to town to the outdoor market for fresh vegetables and bread. A trip to the vineyards to supervise the cultivating of the fields.
Frey and I hold hands, the kids never stop chattering and Dad does his best to appear cheerful. Once, when he doesn’t realize I’m watching, the mask falls. Sadness is stamped in dark bold relief on his face.
I leave Frey’s side and link my arm through his. “You doing okay?”
He squeezes my arm. “I’m fine.”
“No. You aren’t. And it’s all right if you aren’t.”
He smiles. “It’s wonderful to have you here. And the kids. I worry how it will be with Trish when you leave. She puts on such a brave front.”
“It’s not just Trish putting up a brave front,” I remind him. “You’re doing a pretty good job of it yourself.”
“Am I? Sometimes I wonder.” He lets his voice drop.
“When the time comes,” I say, not able to bring myself to say the obvious, “why don’t you and Trish plan to spend a few weeks in San Diego with me? Frey will have to go back to Monument Valley so John-John can finish up the school year. I have plenty of room.”
He squeezes my arm once again. “I’ll think about it. See what Trish wants to do. I thank God every day for that girl. You and she are the only things holding me together.”
John-John comes skipping back to ask Dad a question about the grapes and he lets himself be pulled ahead to where Trish is waiting. Frey steps up beside me. “Everything okay?”
“As okay as it can be.” I put my arms around Frey’s waist and give him a hug. “He’s very glad we’re here.”
Frey’s lips brush the top of my head. “Me, too.”
WE PLAN TO LEAVE THE FAMILY AT DINNERTIME TO GO into Lorgues. We retreat upstairs late in the afternoon to shower and change. Frey has qualms about my wearing the dress Steffan provided.
Until he sees me in it.
It’s a simple design, a shift of cream chiffon with strategically placed beads and sequins that seem to follow the silhouette of my body. It has a modest boat neckline and short sleeves and hits just above the knees with a scalloped fringe hem.
Not revealing. Not formfitting. It’s beautiful without being ostentatious. Feminine without being overtly sexy. There is a pair of silver sandals in the bottom of the bag to complete the ensemble.
I slip them on and pirouette for Frey to get the full effect.
“So. What do you think?”
“I think Steffan knows too damned much about you.” But his eyes shine and he steps closer to trace a curving line of crystals from the top of the dress to a point just above my right breast. “I like it. Take it off.”
I wave a finger in front of his face. “Later. Right now, we need to get on the road.”
He groans and shrugs into his jacket. He’s wearing a blue Armani suit with a pale silk shirt and a conservative striped tie. I reach up and straighten the knot. “Just like an old married couple,” I tell him.
The family is at the dining room table when we appear. We get a chorus of whistles and a round of applause, which makes Frey take me into his arms and dance us around the table.
Mom has come down to join the family for dinner, too, and her presence makes it hard to pull myself away. Once again, her skin glows, her eyes burn bright. We’d excused ourselves from the family dinner with the pretext of one final romantic dinner between Frey and me before we tie the knot.
“Good idea,” Dad says with a grin. “After you’re married those romantic evenings will be few and far between.”
Mom swats his arm. “Don’t listen to him. We’ve had plenty of romantic evenings. He’s just too busy watching football to notice.”
“Football, huh?” Frey says. “I’m a baseball man myself.”
“You are?” I blink up at him. I can’t believe I didn’t know this about the man I’m about to marry.
He gives me an amused smile. “Well, when was the last time we discussed sports?”
He has a point. “Guess there are still a few things I don’t know about you.”
He puts an arm over my shoulder. “Honey, there are a lot of things you don’t know about me.”
Mom laughs. “Uh-oh, Anna. A man of secrets.”
“It’s good to have a little mystery in your life.” This from Dad. “Keeps the marriage fresh.”
I give Frey another good-natured slap on the arm. “As long as none of these mysteries is named Susan or Elizabeth.”
Frey points to the door. “I think it’s time we were on our way.”
“Evasive, isn’t he?” Mom says.
I let Frey pull me toward the door, turning back to mouth, “I’ll keep him on a short leash.”
Dad has taken Mom in his arms. He leans down to whisper something in her ear. The sound of their laughter as they hold each other warms—and breaks—my heart.
CHAPTER 20
CHAEL IS WAITING FOR US IN FRONT OF THE CAFÉ. He’s in the Jag, the engine running. The sound is like the quiet growl of a big cat waiting to spring. I tip my face to Frey. “Sound familiar?”
He rumbles a growl of his own and holds the door open for me to slip inside.
Chael puts the car in gear and gives it its head. He glances over his shoulder. “You look quite beautiful in the dress, Anna.”
“What about me?” Frey says. “Don’t I look beautiful, too?”
Chael grunts and turns his attention to the road. I noticed when we got in that he was in very formal dress—a black tux and pleated white shirt. He’s concentrating on the driving, his manner relaxed.
“Tell me,” I say after a moment. “Who will be at this party tonight?”
He shrugs. “I am not privy to the entire guest list. But I do expect one or two dignitaries from the EVL.” He pauses, reading that I don’t know what that is, before continuing. “European Vampire League. Counterpart to our Thirteen Tribes. Many are in town because they are curious about you.” He glances over his shoulder once again. “This is your chance to make an impression on the oldest vampires in existence.”
“Older than Steffan?”
“Oh yes.” He chuckles. “I think you will be surprised.”
“But Steffan is their leader.”
“For the moment.”
His nonchalance raises the hair on my arm. “What do you mean?”
“I did not want to say anything before but there are rumblings in the community. We may be witness to history in the making tonight.”
Frey’s grip on my hand tightens. “What kind of history?”
“You’ll see. Shifter, you should feel honored to be included as consort to the Chosen One. Few such as yourself have been granted the privilege.”
Frey grows restive beside me. I sense an end to his patience with Chael.
“You forget yourself, Chael.” I bite off each word. “Frey is more than a match for any vampire. I suggest you don’t give him the opportunity to prove it.”
Chael takes the admonition calmly. He turns his thoughts inward and closes them off. Frey, meanwhile, is still fuming. I bring his hand to my lips. When his eyes snap to mine, I watch the transformation from anger to warmth as I rub his hand against my cheek. He nods that he is once more in control. Our hands remain clasped tightly together and we relax in our seats.
I let my eyes drift to the world outside our car. We are traveling the main road out of Lourges—to the west instead of the route traveled last night. Up into the gentle hills that surround the village. In the lingering twilight, we pass several side roads that end in huge houses perched like jewels on manicured lots.