Desire the Night
Page 26

Kusuma Ila lifted one brow, apparently not amused by his reference to witches and their ubiquitous brooms. “It is the wand or nothing.”
“And if I can’t get it?”
“Do not worry,” Kusuma Ila said with a wave of her hand. “If you cannot, you cannot. No harm will befall you, or your woman.”
“I’ll do my best to get it,” Gideon promised.
“That is all I ask. Yadalanh, nightwalker.”
“Until we meet again, old one,” Gideon replied.
He took Kay to his lair in New York.
“So,” she said when they were safely curled up on the sofa in his apartment. “What happened? Who was that old woman? How did I get there? And why can’t I remember?”
“Slow down, darlin’. One question at a time. Verah managed to get inside Victor’s house. I saw her coming out. Apparently she put some sort of spell on you. It left you like a … I don’t know, like a zombie, I guess. You didn’t talk. You didn’t blink. I took you to my lair in Phoenix, then went looking for a witch to see if she could break the spell. And she did.”
Kay digested what he had told her, her brow furrowed thoughtfully. “All I remember is going to sleep at Victor’s, and then waking up in that old woman’s house.”
She frowned. All hell must be breaking loose back home. Victor was probably furious. Her father, too. They were no doubt scouring the countryside looking for her. She didn’t want to think about what would happen if they found her. For a moment, the thought frightened her, and then anger took over. If anyone should be furious, it was her! She had been kidnapped, thrown in a trunk, and locked in a cellar. Enough was enough.
“Kiya? Are you all right?”
“What? Oh, of course. How on earth did you find a witch?”
“The Yellow Pages,” Gideon said, laughing.
“You’re kidding!”
“Nope. Just looked under ‘Witches,’ and there she was. The only one in the book.”
“That’s amazing. I never knew witches advertised.” Kay shook her head. “After our experience with Verah, I’m surprised you went looking for another one.”
“You were under a witch’s spell. I didn’t know any other way to break it.”
“So,” she asked after a moment, “where’s Verah now?”
“Your future father-in-law has her.”
“I feel sorry for her, then. Victor’s father hates witches even more than he hates vampires.”
“How the devil can you feel sorry for her?” Gideon shook his head in disbelief. “Verah would have killed you in a heartbeat and dragged me back to her torture chamber if she’d had the chance. I hope to hell he kills her. That’s the only way you’ll ever be safe.”
“Hey!” she admonished as his eyes went red, “don’t go all vampire on me, okay?”
He took several deep breaths. “Sorry.” Gathering her into his arms, Gideon kissed her cheek. “I proposed to you a while back. And if I remember correctly, you said yes. You haven’t changed your mind, have you?”
With a sigh, she snuggled against him. “No way.”
“So, what do you say, Wolfie? Should we go find a justice of the peace and tie the knot?”
“I say the sooner, the better, Vampy.” She refused to think about her parents. No doubt they would be angry and upset. Well, turnabout was fair play. Besides, she was too excited at the prospect of marrying Gideon to worry about the consequences now.
“Tomorrow night?” he asked.
“Tomorrow night sounds perfect.” She glanced at her wrinkled blue dress, noting the grease spot on the hem, then burst out laughing. “But first I need something to wear.”
* * *
Chapter 24
Kay wandered through Gideon’s apartment, too restless to sit still, too excited at the thought of becoming his wife to think about anything else. Mrs. Gideon Marquet. Kiya Marie Marquet. She giggled, thinking that if she was still in high school, she would be drawing red hearts around her name and Gideon’s on her notebook.
Around noon, hunger drove her into the den. Earlier, she had found a note advising her that he had gone shopping while she slept, and that she would find bread and doughnuts in the den, milk and sandwich makings in the refrigerator.
Now, she stood in front of the small refrigerator, reluctant to open the door. What if it was also filled with bags of fresh blood? She wasn’t really squeamish; she killed rabbits and deer on a regular basis, but dining on blood in bags? It was just too creepy. Taking a deep breath, she opened the door, relieved that the only items in the fridge were a quart of milk, a package of cheese, and three kinds of deli meat.
She ate three doughnuts—two chocolate, and one chocolate buttermilk—as well as a ham and cheese sandwich, then washed it all down with milk straight from the carton, since Gideon didn’t keep any dishes or glassware in the apartment.
Time and again, she tiptoed into the bedroom just to look at him. He was gorgeous, like an enchanted prince condemned to live only by night. She grinned as her imagination took flight. He was the prince and she was the princess; only, in her fairy tale, it was the kiss of the princess that brought the prince to life.
The day dragged on. And on. She switched on the TV, flipped through the channels, and turned it off.
Finally, about four o’clock, she went into the bedroom and crawled into bed beside Gideon. Resting her head on his shoulder, she closed her eyes. And fell asleep, content at last.
Gideon woke with the soft, round curves of Kay’s body pressed close to his side, one of her legs lying across his, her breath warm on his neck, her hair like silk against his shoulder. He lay there, unmoving, basking in her nearness. Until Kay entered his life, he had never fallen asleep with a woman in his bed, nor wakened to find one beside him. It was a rare pleasure, and a sign of his complete trust in her that he allowed her to know where he took his rest.
Tonight, she would be his bride. The thought made him smile. He had never expected to marry anyone, let alone a werewolf. He chuckled softly. A strange union, that, vampire wed to werewolf, monster to monster.
“What’s so funny?” she asked, nudging him in the side.
“We are.”
Kay raised up on her elbow and stared down at him. “Why do you say that?” she asked, looking offended.
“You don’t find it amusing, a marriage between a vampire and a werewolf?”
“No. I find it … strangely romantic.”
“Strange is the word, all right.”
“Well, I’m sorry you feel that way.” Scooting to the far side of the bed, she sat up, her arms folded over her breasts. “Maybe you’d like to call the wedding off.”
“Hey, Wolfie, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. But, come on, have you ever heard of a vampire and a werewolf getting hitched? It’s like a cat marrying a mouse, or a lion falling in love with a lamb.”
“Well, when you put it that way, I guess it is unusual.”
In a blur of movement, he was beside her, his arm stealing around her waist, drawing her back down on the mattress beside him. “You don’t want to fight on our wedding night, do you?”
His hand slid under the slip she had worn to bed, caressing her thigh, sliding up and down in long, sensual strokes that made her toes curl and her stomach clench with pleasure.
“Kiya?”
“No.” She gasped as his hand moved to her belly. “I don’t want to fight. But I still need something to wear.”
“Women,” he muttered good-naturedly. “All they think about are clothes.”
“And chocolate,” she said. “And right now, I need both.”
“Here.” Quitting the bed, Gideon pulled a pair of sweats and a T-shirt from his closet and tossed them to her.
Kay looked at him, one brow raised. “This is getting to be a habit,” she muttered darkly.
He shrugged one shoulder. “Well, you could go out as you are. You look mighty fetching in that slip. Of course, people are likely to stare.”
With an incredulous shake of her head, Kay turned her back to him, yanked the slip over her head, and pulled on the sweatpants and T-shirt. Both were miles too big. Sometime in the near future, she was going to buy a few outfits and leave changes of clothes in each of his lairs.
“I just hope you don’t expect me to wear your shoes,” she muttered irritably.
“Don’t worry, Wolfie,” he said, stifling a grin. “Your feet won’t touch the ground.”
He was as good as his word. Sweeping her into his arms, he transported them to the sidewalk in front of Bloomingdale’s.
Kay didn’t know whether to blush or laugh when he carried her up to the third floor. One of the salesclerks—ever polite no matter the circumstances—came forward. She tsked softly as she noted Kay’s outfit. “My dear, I can see that you need help immediately.”
“You have no idea,” Kay said, squirming in Gideon’s arms. “Gideon, put me down.”
He lowered her to her feet—her bare feet—and bowed from the waist. “I’m going downstairs. I’ll meet you back up here in, what? An hour?”
“At least,” the saleswoman said emphatically.
Gideon had been waiting about ten minutes past the agreed upon hour when Kay finally emerged from the dressing room wearing a clingy pink sweater and a pair of slinky black pants. Sometime during her shopping spree, she had bought a pair of shoes. He paid the bill, then picked up two large brown bags. “Ready?”
A smile twitched the corners of her mouth. “Aren’t you going to carry me home?”
Gideon glanced at the numerous shoppers milling around, several of whom were glancing surreptitiously in their direction. “Not right now.”
Their next stop was the wedding salon on the eighth floor of Macy’s, where Kay bought the first gown she tried on. White heels and a shoulder-length veil came next and she was ready to go in less than twenty minutes.