He spluttered a little. “It wasn’t? But the news…”
“Nope. This was personal. A jealous woman did it. Ever seen that show Snapped?”
He harrumphed at that. “Fine. Well, be sure to submit police reports and any proof you may have of that to us in writing with the completed claim. I’ll send you the appropriate forms. What’s your e-mail address?”
I was still on the phone with Ed until after we’d landed in L.A. I was going over the claim forms with him item by item. We were just wrapping it up when I heard a light tap on the door. Bruno poked his head into the room.
I remembered then that we were picking up several people while we refueled, to take to the ceremony. “Can I come in?”
I waved for him to come in as I spelled out my address for Ed for the second time. That finished, I was able to say good-bye to my agent and hello to my boyfriend.
Bruno looked so good. He was wearing new black jeans with a black dress shirt, the sleeves rolled up slightly to show muscular forearms. His belt was black leather, chased with silver runes that almost seemed to move as they caught the light. His dark hair had been recently cut, so it was a little shorter than I like, and there were traces of gray showing at the temples. He carried a duffel, black leather and suede in a patchwork pattern.
He stood in the middle of the room, looking at me, his posture uncomfortable and uncertain.
“Hi.” I put the phone in its cradle and stood up to give him a hug.
He set the duffel on the floor and returned my hug with a fierce one of his own. “When you didn’t call I was afraid—,” he said, stumbling over the words. “You were already pissed about the body bind, and after what Angelina did…” I stopped his stammering with a kiss.
I looked him straight in the eyes, willing him to believe me. “The Angelina thing is not your fault. You didn’t lead her on and I don’t blame you.” I tried to lighten his mood with a bit of a joke. “As to the binding, well, I’ll just have to take my revenge for that later.”
He winced but didn’t argue. Actually, while I’d never have admitted it, there’d been so much going on I’d completely forgotten the whole body binding incident until Dawna had reminded me. That probably meant I’d already forgiven him. Still, she was probably right. It wouldn’t hurt to let him try to make it up to me, and it might keep him from doing something stupid like that again. I gestured toward the couch. We sat, his arm wrapped around me. I turned toward him, resting my head on his shoulder, and felt the tenseness of his muscles start to ease.
He kissed the top of my head, then started talking, his words soft and filled with sadness. “I’d hoped that Angie had gotten your hair somewhere other than from my mom, but the more I thought about it, the less likely that seemed. So I called home and spoke to my mom, had her check the siren charm I’d given her. Angelina had tampered with it and several hairs were missing. Mama turned the evidence over to the feds, but I doubt they’re going to use it.” The bitterness in his voice was cutting.
“Why?”
He closed his eyes for a second. Then, taking a deep breath he steeled himself, opened his eyes, and told me the bad news. “Angelina is going into witness protection. She plans to testify against my brother Mike and cousin Joey.”
Oh, hell and damnation. This so sucked. Yeah, Joey and Mike are bad guys. I get that. They were probably long overdue for a stretch in the slammer. But Angelina was getting off? Without so much as a slap on the wrist? That sucked. My office was downtown. What if the bomb had gone off during a weekday—how many innocent people would she have killed?
Joey and Mike were mobsters. They were also Bruno’s family. I held him close, trying to ease the hurt I knew he was feeling, but was too proud to show.
We stayed like that until the announcement came over the intercom. “This is your captain speaking. Please stow all personal items and fasten your seatbelts. We are preparing for takeoff.”
It was a long flight. I didn’t mind. Bruno and I rarely got a chance to sit and talk in private, without any life-threatening crises or other interruptions. It was wonderful. I even took a nap, curled up next to Bruno, who entertained himself by reading.
He kissed me awake when the plane finally landed. We disembarked at 10:38 P.M., later than originally scheduled, having been forced to reroute to avoid bad weather over the Atlantic. The motorcade was waiting and the road to the palace was lined with cheering spectators waving flags or holding candles or pictures of the happy couple. It was almost as if the common people were trying to make up for the actions of the terrorists by giving Adriana an even warmer welcome than they would have otherwise. Assuming Dahlmar hadn’t arranged the whole thing for the reporters. I wouldn’t put it past him. He’s a cagey one and he’s ruled long enough to know the power the press has over the minds and hearts of the people.
When we arrived, the palace was brilliantly lit and buzzing with activity. It looked just like a storybook prince’s castle. There were elaborate architectural details, servants in elegant livery. Everything had been made absolutely perfect in honor of the ceremonies. For a long moment I just stood staring in wide-eyed wonder. I mean, yes, I do get to see some pretty fancy places guarding the rich and famous. But this … this was just … wow. It was the kind of memory you store away for a lifetime.
Creede was standing at the top of the castle’s front steps. When he saw me with Bruno, I thought I saw a flash of anger cross his face, but it was gone so quickly that I might have imagined it, replaced by a façade of bland professionalism.
I had to admit he looked good, as he had the night of the dinner on Serenity. As always, I was drawn to his honey-colored eyes, though I noticed that his warm, light-brown hair was getting a little long, almost breaking into unmanageable and, in Creede’s opinion, unmanly curls. The golden highlights in his hair seemed more prominent than usual and I realized he’d gotten a little tan during his time on the sirens’ island. He was wearing a perfectly tailored charcoal gray suit, paired with a starched white shirt and striped tie.
“Bruno. Celia.” He didn’t smile and his tone was frigid. Still, what had I expected? We’d broken up badly and I was standing in front of him with the man who’d been his chief rival. But it hurt just the same. I couldn’t just turn off my feelings for him, much as I might want to. I forced myself to put a good face on it and gave him a pleasant greeting, as did Bruno.
“Princess.” Baker appeared at my elbow, saving us all from further awkwardness. I had no idea how she’d gotten here. I hadn’t seen her on the plane. But here she was, and her timing was impeccable. She was calling me by title because everyone was watching. I could sense it. “If you’re ready, I can escort you and your guest to your rooms.”
“Our luggage?”
“Has been taken to your suite.”
I nodded and took Bruno’s arm while Creede watched with narrowed eyes. “Cool. Lead the way.”
She led us through rooms and hallways that were, not surprisingly, palatiaclass="underline" polished marble floors, towering pillars leading up to intricately patterned and gilded ceilings. Original oil paintings by the great masters hung on the walls, recessed alcoves held sculptures by Michelangelo, Rodin, and others whose work I was too unschooled to recognize. The artworks were displayed beautifully and looked completely unprotected. But looks were quite deceiving. I could feel the spells guarding the individual pieces from yards away, burning so hot against my senses that they stole the breath from my lungs.