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The cabin was far enough away from the stronghold to feel like an escape, but close enough that she could teleport them in seconds, if necessary. As far as their safety, he wasn’t taking any chances. She’d never see the team of wolves he’d placed in the forest to stand guard for the night.
When he rounded a bend in the road and the structure came into view, Calla gasped in surprise. It was impressive, built of logs and stone, with a wall of glass facing the forest. Chuckling to himself, he made a note not to get dirty in front of the windows, or the guys would get a show.
“What?”
“Nothing. Do you like it?”
“It’s beautiful,” she breathed as he parked. Getting out of the car, she gazed at their place for the night. “Let’s go in.”
He unlocked the door and let them in, leading Calla by the hand. Once inside, she twirled around, wide-eyed, clearly delighted with the fat leather sofas, oak furniture, and soaring ceilings. A dining room had its own space next to the kitchen, and was open to the living room as well.
“Are you cooking?” she asked, looking toward the kitchen. “You did promise dinner.”
“Hungry?”
“Starved.”
“Then I suggest you open the door.”
Looking puzzled, Calla crossed the foyer, peered out the peephole, then opened the front door, where a tall, thin man dressed in a tuxedo stood regarding her down the considerable length of his hawklike nose.
“Good evening, madam,” he said, bowing gallantly. He introduced himself as the maître d’ of the Duck, the fanciest restaurant in the county. “I’m here with your dinner, and I hope you’re famished.” He gestured to a rolling cart behind him, laden with covered silver dishes.
Calla’s eyes rounded. “All that? I’m glad I’ll have help eating it. You can bring it right through here.”
“Certainly, madam.” He turned abruptly and snapped his fingers toward the open doorway. A younger waiter leapt forward from the shadows to maneuver the cart inside. They followed her to the formal dining room, where they made a great show of setting the dishes just precisely so.
As she watched in astonishment, they spread out two place settings, complete with china, crystal, and flatware. Nick grinned and took in her reaction with immense satisfaction. Calla clearly wasn’t used to being pampered, which surprised and pleased him, given her status. He was going to get used to spoiling her. The thought sent a small shiver of happiness through him.
“Will this do, madam?” the tall man asked.
“It looks terrific,” Nick broke in. “Thank you for coming all the way out here. We appreciate it.”
“Our pleasure, sir.”
Nick handed him a large wad of bills and saw them out. When the door was shut and locked firmly behind them, he turned back to her. “Shall we eat?”
“Definitely. It smells wonderful.” She sniffed appreciatively.
“I’ll get the wine.”
Nick reappeared in moments, filling Calla’s glass and holding out a chair for her to sit down in. He uncovered the dishes one by one as Calla’s jaw dropped in amazement. The table abounded with Caesar salad, seafood linguini marinara, delicate asparagus, fresh bread, strawberries and cream, and two huge slices of cheesecake.
“There’s enough here to feed every neighbor within ten miles! I would feel guilty if I weren’t so busy salivating,” she said, shaking her head in wonder. “You really didn’t have to
go to all this trouble.”
“Oh, sure. Picking up the telephone was a lot of trouble,” Nick teased. He loved watching the childlike joy on her face and sensed it had little to do with the food.
Nick filled their plates and they talked quietly, basking in each other’s company. The shadow of this morning seemed to fade into the past, for which he was profoundly grateful.
Finally, they turned to the subject of Graham’s surprising betrayal. “And Ivan Cardenas?” Calla pondered. “I barely remember him. I certainly didn’t know Carter was his mate.”
“Neither did anyone else,” Nick said. “We’re going to find him, though. When we do, he’ll have to face justice for trying to overthrow a prince.”
“It’s really sad,” Calla said, her brow knitting. “Grief can do terrible things to a person.”
“True. But he was mated to Carter, and since Fate chooses those who are supposed to be perfect for us as our Bondmates, I’m not sure how innocent Ivan ever was to begin with.”
