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Broken Dove

Page 92

   


“You look like a princess!” Élan cried.
I turned from the mirror to Élan, who had come into my room and was gazing up at me like I’d gazed up at Cinderella at Disney World when I was seven, the one and only time my father took us on a family vacation. A vacation that didn’t go well because Dad was the only person in the world who could find the most magical place on earth annoying and didn’t mind sharing it, all day. This made me meeting Cinderella pretty much the only good part of it (save the Matterhorn and Space Mountain, both of which I’d loved).
Shoving that memory aside, I decided instead to let flow over me how freaking great it felt to have Élan staring at me like I walked right of a movie.
But it must be said, even by me, she was right. I totally looked like a fairy princess, or, at least one who lived in a country covered in ice.
I gave her dazzled eyes a smile then looked beyond her to see Chris had come in with her. He, on the other hand, didn’t look dazzled. He looked startled and was hanging back. That was unusual behavior for him. If not as effervescent as his sister, he wasn’t detached. And I’d never seen him startled by anything.
Before I could make anything of it, my eyes went to Apollo, who had brought the children in. But when I looked at him, my heart stopped.
He didn’t look dazzled either.
No.
Instead, he looked like he very much liked the dress. So much, he looked like he’d very much like to rip it off me. He had control and this control kept him across the room. But there wasn’t much of it. I could see it in his face, something I’d seen before, that hunger, that heat. It was so strong, it communicated itself to me. I felt it sear through me and everything melted but him and that heat.
That need.
This was heightened significantly by the way he looked. Thick hair swept back. Dark brown trousers tucked into shined boots, and his dark brown cloak lined in almost-black brown fur.
But his forest green shirt had a high collar, and this time he was wearing a neck cloth.
If you’d asked me five months ago if I thought that look was hot, I would have said, hell no.
But believe me, it wasn’t hot. It was freaking hot.
Bella broke into our scorching staring contest by ordering, “Say good-bye to your father and Miss Maddie. They’re away to the gale.”
“I can’t wait until Frey Drakkar takes me to my first gale,” Élan breathed and I tore my gaze from Apollo and looked down at her. “I’m going to wear that exact dress.”
“I’ll save it for you, honey bunch,” I promised.
“Hurrah!” she cried.
Thus commenced Élan dashing forward to give me a quick hug, Chris approaching his father getting a squeeze on the side of the neck and then Chris turned to me to dip his chin.
But he didn’t approach.
Again, odd. We rarely got physical but he did get close to give my hand a squeeze when we had the occasion to say goodnight.
Bella, Loretta and Meeta, however, did approach.
Meeta did it to me, bringing with her my bronze velvet cloak.
Loretta also did it to me, carrying my satin evening bag.
Bella did it to the kids, huddling them and herding them out as Élan waved and cried, “Don’t forget to dance!”
Oh shit.
There was going to be dancing?
Oh shit!
Of course there was going to be dancing. It was a ball.
The problem was, I didn’t know how to dance.
Crap.
I couldn’t think on that, the kids were leaving so I called, “Sleep tight!”
“We will,” Élan called back before she disappeared.
Chris said nothing.
Again, odd.
My mind was turned from Chris this time as Meeta arranged the cloak on my shoulders then Loretta moved in and gave me my bag.
I bent in to kiss Loretta’s cheek and turned to Meeta.
When I did, smiling, I looked into her eyes. At what I saw there, the smile froze on my face and I stilled.
“Enjoy your evening, Miss Maddie,” she murmured.
But she didn’t mean that.
She meant, Be careful and stay safe.
How I knew this, I didn’t know. I just knew her eyes were troubled, even alarmed, and that freaked me way the hell out.
“Madeleine, our sleigh is waiting,” Apollo cut into these thoughts and I looked to him to see he had his hand extended to me.
“Remember everything…eh…vree…thing. We want to hear it all on your return,” Loretta ordered, coming forward to fuss with the folds of my cloak as I moved to Apollo.
I had a feeling from Apollo’s earlier look that I wasn’t going to be having girlie time “on my return.”
I was coming to love my girls. But from that look, I was good to wait until the morning.
I didn’t share this with Loretta.
I told her, “I’ll remember, honey, promise.”
I got close to Apollo and he took my hand, lifted it and curved it around the inside of his elbow. Without delay, he moved us to the door.
Right before we went through it, I looked over my shoulder at Meeta.
She was watching me with a weird intensity that was unsettling, her expression clouded. Then, she strangely lifted up a hand, only a slim forefinger extended, and touched the tip of it between her eyes.
I didn’t know what that meant. I just knew it meant something.
I obviously couldn’t ask and I couldn’t think on it either. Apollo was moving swiftly and I had to think about keeping up with him and not tripping.
Before I knew it, we were in one of his sleighs with the furs over our laps and he’d snapped the reins. The chill air bit at my cheeks and through the heavy (but not as heavy as fur) velvet cloak. I shivered for more than one reason as my eyes lifted to the torchlit castle.
Apollo must have felt it for he curved an arm around me and tucked me close to his side.
That felt better.
He then dipped his head and murmured into the top of my hair, “Your beauty tonight is unsurpassed.”
That warmed me all the way through to the point where my toes curled in my beaded velvet slippers.
Because I knew what he meant and what he meant meant the world.
I looked exactly like his dead wife. But tonight, I knew I looked better.
It might be greedy and wrong to love that, but I had to admit, I did.
Then again, even I was stunned at how awesome I looked.
I had help and not just Loretta and Meeta’s awesome skills with hair and makeup.
There was no other way to describe it, my gown was sublime. A dark green velvet that skimmed my figure to the bottom of my h*ps and flared out into a full skirt. The velvet led up to a strapless bodice but this was covered in a fabulous topaz lace which melted down my torso, disappearing at my hips.