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“I wish I had that mind control thing,” Kay remarked when they returned to their room.
“Comes in handy, that’s for sure.”
Kay kicked off her shoes. “Since there’s no hurry, I’m going to take a shower.”
“Okay.”
“Did you buy something to wear to the wedding?”
“Of course,” he said with a wink. “What do you think’s in that garment bag hanging on the door?”
She smiled at him as she picked up her wedding gown and headed for the bedroom. “I won’t be long.”
Gideon dropped into an overstuffed chair and stretched his legs out in front of him. In his mind’s eye, he pictured Kay in the bedroom, getting undressed, stepping into the shower. If it hadn’t been so late, he would have joined her, but there wasn’t time, not if they were going to be married tonight. It was already after eleven. And he wanted to spend as much time as possible with his new bride before the sun came up.
Just when he was about to go in and tell her to get a move on, she stepped out of the bedroom. Gideon whistled softly. If she had tried on a hundred dresses, she couldn’t have chosen a better one. The neckline was square, the skirt long and full and sprinkled with rhinestones that reflected the light when she moved. In all his life, he had never seen anything more beautiful than Kay in her wedding gown. She wore her hair down; it fell over her shoulders like a river of ebony silk beneath the shoulder-length veil.
“Thank you,” she murmured, pleased by the open admiration in his eyes.
“Thank you.” Grabbing the garment bag that held his tux, he went into the bedroom and closed the door.
Kay paced the floor, thoughts sifting through her mind like sand in an hourglass. She was going to marry Gideon. Sooner or later, her father would find out. What would he say? Worse, what would he do? Was she making a mistake? Or would this act of defiance convince her father once and for all that she had a mind and will of her own?
Her troublesome thoughts came to an abrupt halt when Gideon stepped out of the bedroom. The well-cut black jacket and trousers emphasized his broad shoulders and long legs. The coat and pants fit him as though they had been hand-tailored. No doubt about it, he had been born to wear a tux. She grinned inwardly. She could hardly wait to get him out of it!
After a quick check on Gideon’s cell phone, they decided to get married in the Victorian Chapel at the Chapel of the Flowers. The room was adorned with bronze-colored velvet draperies, crystal chandeliers, beige marble floors, and mahogany pews.
The ceremony was traditional, yet Kay was sure she had never heard more beautiful words in her life as she promised to be Gideon’s lawfully wedded wife, to love him for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, for as long as she lived.
She felt a moment of regret when it came time to exchange rings, because they didn’t have any. But, to her surprise, Gideon pulled a thick gold band from his pants’ pocket and slipped it on her finger.
A moment later, she was his lawfully wedded wife, for better or worse.
Murmuring, “I’ll love you forever,” he drew her into his embrace and kissed her, a long, lingering kiss filled with the promise of eternity.
Swinging Kay into his arms, Gideon unlocked the door to their hotel suite and carried her over the threshold.
“Alone at last,” he murmured as he slowly lowered her feet to the floor. His body reacted as expected at her nearness. “So, Mrs. Marquet,” he drawled. “What would you like to do now?”
“Gosh, I don’t know,” she said, trying not to laugh. “Maybe paint my nails or wash my hair?”
He lifted one brow, his hands sliding up and down her sides, his palms skimming her br**sts. “Now, tell me what you really want, wife.”
“You,” she said, all humor gone. “Here, now. Inside me.”
“No sooner said than done,” he replied, and in an instant, she was lying in bed beside him, with nothing between them but desire as he kissed and caressed every inch of her, from the top of her head to the soles of her feet.
She moaned in an agony of wanting, sighed as he rose over her, his dark eyes alight with an inner fire as his body blended into hers, two incomplete halves now and forever one.
Just when she thought it couldn’t get any better, she felt his fangs at her throat. A mere taste was all he took and yet it amplified her pleasure a hundredfold. Each touch was like silken fire on her skin, each caress unlike any that had come before. She knew what he wanted, what he needed, even as he knew how to please her. Each kiss, each bold stroke carried her past pleasure, past bliss, to nirvana. She held him close, closer, her nails raking his back.
She cried his name as ripples of ecstasy shuddered through her, leaving her sated and spent and complete as never before.
Holding Kay against him, Gideon rolled onto his side, carrying her with him, holding her close while their breathing returned to normal and their bodies cooled. He had been alone for centuries but now, seeing the love in Kay’s eyes, he knew that whatever the future held for the two of them, he would never be alone again.
* * *
Chapter 25
Jaw clenched, his thoughts churning with malice, Victor Rinaldi paced up and down the length of the driveway. Try as they might, threaten as they would, the witch refused to tell him or his father why she had been in the compound, who had taken Kiya, or where they might have gone.
Kiya. Damn the girl. She was more trouble than she was worth. Almost. If she wasn’t an integral part of his plans, he would consider himself well rid of her. But marrying the Shadow Pack heir was the only way to assure a lasting bond between the two packs. The only way he could one day take over leadership of Alissano’s pack, and his own, as well.
He slammed his fist against a tree. He was tired of being a civilized werewolf, tired of hiding his true nature, tired of pretending he was content to hunt rabbits and deer when he hungered for human flesh, thirsted for human blood.
The Alpha of the Shadow Pack and his own Alpha had grown soft, almost as if they had forgotten that werewolves were superior to all other forms of life. In the old days, werewolves had been feared, and rightly so. The ancients had sacrificed their young to his kind—the loss of a few to save the many. But in this time and place, humankind no longer believed in the supernatural. Of course, the fault didn’t just lie with the werewolves. Vampires and witches had also disguised their true natures, walking undetected among mortals, lulling humankind into a false sense of security.
He had never understood why. There wasn’t a werewolf, vampire, or a witch alive who wasn’t smarter, faster, or more powerful than any human who had ever walked the earth, and yet the whole supernatural community pretended to be what they weren’t.
