She took a bite of her salad and chewed while she studied the furrow of his brow and his intense gaze. He was putting so much effort into rescuing her. How could she not fall hard for a man like this? Really, it was the sort of thing that made her feel like she was already…in love with him.
She moved her gaze back to her plate. Well, that was silly and overly emotional and probably just a reaction to being around a single, available man for the first time in her life. Because she’d only known him a short while, and real love took a lot longer.
Didn’t it?
She honestly didn’t know. Were her feelings any less genuine because they’d come on so fast? What did real love look like anyway? It wasn’t what her parents had. At best, that was a mutually agreed upon business deal. Sure, they liked each other—there was no other way they could spend that much time together otherwise—but did they love each other?
Monalisa didn’t think so. How could anyone love a man like her father when all he loved was himself? And money.
Meanwhile, her mother’s great loves seemed to be shopping and vacations with her girlfriends. No, her parents’ marriage was based more on a shared appreciation for things rather than love.
Monalisa poked at the bubbly crust of cheese on top of her soup (which smelled and looked divine) and sighed.
Van’s head came up, and the hunk of steak on the end of his fork stopped midway to his mouth. “What’s wrong?” He groaned, squeezing his eyes shut for a second. “I am ignoring you. I am sorry. This situation with your father—”
“No, it’s not that.” She smiled and hoped he understood how she felt about him, at least to some degree. “I was just lost in my own thoughts.”
“About what?”
She laughed softly and shook her head. “Nothing.”
“Tell me.” He gave her a mock-serious expression. “We are supposed to be getting to know one another.”
She sucked in a breath and dug deep for some courage. “I was just thinking that…” She swallowed. “I don’t think I know what real love is. Or how to recognize it. Or what it feels like. What I mean is, I haven’t really had any examples of it, you know?”
He stared back at her, eyes rounded, mouth agape. A little like a deer in headlights. Or a dragon in headlights. If headlights had that effect on dragons. Whatever, he clearly wasn’t ready to delve into that topic.
She shrugged one shoulder and gave another easy laugh to lighten the mood. “Way too deep for dinner conversation, huh? Sorry, just me musing. As you were.”
“Not too deep.” He caught her hand as she picked up her fork. “If you have never seen real love, then you must trust your gut to know what it is.”
She let go of her fork. “That’s hard for me to do. My life has been one disappointment after another. Enough of that and you have a hard time trusting anything.”
He twined his fingers with hers. “But you must start somewhere.”
She nodded, content to look into his eyes. “I’m just not sure I know how.”
His head dipped toward hers, and their mouths met halfway. The kiss was soft and gentle but lingering. To her, he tasted like a future just out of reach, a future she wanted so much she was afraid of how hurt she would be when it vanished. But in that moment, she decided to believe it was a future she could have.
That was trusting in something, wasn’t it?
Their mouths parted, but their heads stayed close together.
“You can trust in me,” he whispered.
She smiled. “I will try. And you can trust me.” She leaned back. “Even though I wasn’t very trustworthy when I got here.”
“That is all forgotten.” He went back to his steak. “Let’s eat and enjoy this night.”
She picked up her spoon, ready to dig into her soup. “I already am.”
But as she was lifting a bite of gooey cheese to her mouth, he didn’t seem quite ready to move on to lighter topics. “Can you control any supernatural with your powers?”
She ate the spoonful of cheesy, oniony goodness anyway. She nodded while she chewed.
His expression turned skeptical. “Any supernatural?”
“Yep. Or human.” She took a drink of her water. “Even you.”
“Show me.”
She laughed, then realized he was serious. “I don’t want to. It’s not something I like to demonstrate.”
“I understand, but I want to know what you are capable of.” A mischievous glint sparkled in his eyes. “Or perhaps it is all just a big bluff.”
She knew what he was doing. And it was working. “Fine. Give me one of your fries.”
“I will gladly give you one of my fries, but I feel no compulsion to do so.”
“That’s because I haven’t used my gifts yet. I just wanted to say it in my normal voice first, so you could hear the difference.”
“All right. Compel me.”
She opened herself up to the power inside her, threading it through her voice. “Give me a French fry.”
His expression went slack, and his hand jerked once, like he was fighting the magic, but then he reached down, picked up a fry, and held it out to her. There was a little surprise in his gaze.
“Thank you.” She took the fry and released him from her hold.
He slumped back, blinking at her. “That was impressive. You are very powerful.”
“It’s more of a curse than a gift.” She sighed and ate her ill-gotten gain. It was a good fry. “Especially because the downside is that anyone who’s under my spell for any length of time begins to lose themselves.”
“What does that mean? How do they lose themselves?”
“My magic causes the mind to deteriorate. They’ll forget the day, the year, where they live. Their name. Their family. Their purpose.” She frowned. “It’s what Will-o’-the-Wisps are known for, leading people off into the moors, and then those people are never heard from again. It’s because their minds are wiped clean, and they wander until they’re lost forever.”
She stared at her soup. “It’s not a heritage I’m proud of.”
“But the future is yours to change.”
“True.” She ate another spoonful while she thought about that.
They focused on the food for a few more minutes, then he paused again. “Why don’t you just use your ability on your father?”
“If only it was that easy. I tried when I was thirteen. I wanted him to buy me a horse. What thirteen-year-old girl doesn’t have that dream at some point? Anyway, I was just coming into my powers and really understanding them, so I thought it would be a snap to get exactly what I wanted.”
“What happened?”
“The second I walked into his office with the page I’d printed out from the horse auction site, he started laughing and telling me I was wasting my breath. He not-so-politely explained that if I ever thought about using my powers on him again, he’d ground me one month for every word that left my mouth and that I should know my gifts wouldn’t work on blood relations.” She shifted as the uncomfortable memory played out in her head. “Life was bad enough. I didn’t want to be grounded too. I never tried it again.”
He shook his head, then straightened. “Enough of this talk. It doesn’t make you happy.”
“No, it doesn’t, but we still need to come up with a plan for Vegas.”
“When we arrive and he sees I am there to fight, he should give you the coin.”
“And if he doesn’t? Which he won’t.”
“Then I will do the only thing that will make sense to a man like your father.” Van’s big fist closed around his steak knife. “I will use force.”
Beating up the man who controlled the supernatural side of Vegas wasn’t ideal. Van understood that. But from everything Monalisa had told him, it seemed like the only way for her to get the coin she needed.
Van was done fighting anyway. The League could fine him or sanction him or ban him, and none of that would matter, because he was done. He’d have to be, because layi
ng hands on Padraig Devlin would destroy Van’s reputation and ensure he’d never fight for the League again.
They ate the rest of their meal without another word of the plan or her father. He took that to mean that while she might not like it, she understood they had very few other options.
After dinner, they walked to Main Street, neither of them ready for the night to end. Most of the snow had been cleared from the streets and sidewalks, and despite the cold weather, there were a lot of people out walking and window-shopping.
She linked her arm through his, and they strolled in a comfortable silence, enjoying the evening. Perhaps because they both knew it could be their last. He would buy them next-day tickets to Vegas when they got home, and once they got to Nevada, he would go into full fight-prep mode.
And she would have to confront her father.
So tonight was about forgetting all of that for at least another hour or two. He wished it could be different, but there was no avoiding what lay ahead of them.
Her arm tightened around his. “Do you smell that?”
He inhaled. “Chocolate.”
She grinned. “Yes. Where is that coming from?”
“I am not sure, but I have an idea.” He tapped the side of his nose. “Let’s follow it and see.”
The scent led them to Delaney’s Delectables. He’d heard a lot about the shop from Pandora, especially since Delaney had made the cake for the housewarming party and everyone in town knew Delaney Ellingham. But he’d yet to step foot inside. Dragons weren’t much on sweets.
Based on Monalisa’s reaction as they walked inside, Will-o’-the-Wisps clearly felt differently about sugar. She closed her eyes and inhaled, the most rapturous look coming over her face. “Am I dead? Because it smells like I’m in heaven.”
“Welcome to Delaney’s Delectables.” A woman behind the counter smiled at them. “Let me know if I can help you.”
Monalisa grinned at Van. “This is another great place to use my father’s credit card. What do you want?”
He smiled back. “I do not like sweet things so much. But maybe a coffee.”
“Coffee?” She looked aghast. “All this deliciousness and you just want coffee?” She slanted her eyes at him. “You don’t like sugar at all?”
He glanced past her at the glass display cases. The things inside were beautiful, little works of decadent art. But none of it appealed to him. Until he spotted a small Lucite tray on one of the top shelves. He brought his gaze up to the woman behind the counter and pointed at the tray. “What are those?”
She glanced down at the tray. “Those are new. They’re millionaire truffles.”
“Why are they called that?” Monalisa asked.
“Because they’re enrobed in single-bean organic Ecuadorian dark chocolate. The inside is a whipped ganache cream flavored with Dom Perignon rosé champagne, and they’re hand-decorated with twenty-four-carat gold leaf.”
Monalisa’s brows went up. “Fancy. Are they a million dollars apiece too?”
The woman laughed. “Not quite. But they are fifty-five dollars a pound.”
“How many in a pound?” Van had to know, because they were starting to sound good. At least, the gold leaf part was.
“About six,” the woman answered.
Monalisa whipped out her father’s credit card. “I’ll take the whole tray. And a coffee.” She winked at Van. “To start with.”
Monalisa knew her father would question her need to spend four hundred and twenty-three dollars at a place called Delaney’s Delectables, but she didn’t care. She planned on ignoring him. And eating as much of the evidence as possible before they were face-to-face again.
The Ryde driver pulled away as they walked up the steps to Van’s house. He shifted the shopping bag from Delaney’s to his other hand so he could get the house key out.
“You want me to hold that?”
“I have it.” But he gave the bag a sideways look. “That is a lot of chocolate.”
“You’d better help me eat some of it.”
He made a face as he unlocked the door. “Maybe one of those millionaire truffles, but otherwise, you are on your own.”
“Well, I’m going to leave that big box for Norma. She was very nice to me.”
He pushed the door open. “She will like that very much.”
They went inside. Grom lifted his head from where he’d been sleeping on the big leather sofa, eyed them sleepily, then dropped it down and went back to snoring.
Van shook his head, which she took to mean Grom wasn’t really allowed on the couch. “You know, you could give the chocolates to her yourself when you return, Monalisa.”
She occupied herself with taking off her coat. “Except we don’t know that I will return. In fact, we both know there’s a better chance I won’t. We’ve been pretending otherwise all night, and it’s been fun, but I’ve lived this life for thirty years. What are the real chances I’ll get free now?”
He started to say something, but frustration made her answer the question for him. “Slim to none. Those are my chances.”
He took the bag of chocolates into the kitchen and deposited them on the counter. “I know it must feel that way—”
“Yes, it does. Because it’s reality.” She smiled at him as best she could. “I appreciate your optimism, I really do, and tonight was wonderful, but I can’t keep pretending that we’re just jetting off to Vegas for a long weekend getaway.”
She turned to look out the window because she couldn’t meet him eye to eye right now. If she did, he’d see how much pain she was feeling. “My heart may never recover.”
“I am not leaving you there.”
She glanced back at him. He was standing in the kitchen, coat still on, looking as determined and handsome as she’d ever seen him. “So I come back here until my father summons me? And then what? I suffer until I can’t take it anymore? What’s the point of that?”
“Maybe he would not call you back.”
“He will. He always does.” A wave of sadness swept over her. “You don’t understand, Van. I’m falling in—”
She clamped her mouth shut. “I should go upstairs and pack.”
He was in front of her before she could take another step. “Monalisa.”
She shook her head. Her breath was stuck in her throat, and any moment she was going to break into a hot, ugly cry. “I can’t do this.”
“Please—”
“No.” She could barely get the word out.
“I love you.”
“I can’t stay because—” She jerked her head up to look at him. “What did you say?”
She’d heard him. She just couldn’t believe what he’d said. And she really wanted to hear it again.
“I love you.” He took her hands in his. “I know it is too soon for these words, but I cannot deny my heart. My dragon side cannot imagine being without you. And my human side agrees.”
She stared up at him, on the verge of becoming an emotional mess as she tried to sort her overwhelming feelings into words that would make sense. “Van…”
“I know that you do not feel the same. It is okay, zolotse. But I cannot go on without saying what is inside me.”
She wished she could say what was inside her, but words eluded her at the moment. Instead, she clasped her hands on his shoulders, leaned up, and kissed him, letting her mouth express what her brain could not.
He scooped her into his arms, kissing her back just as passionately. He pulled back to look into her eyes. “Does that mean you might love me someday too?”
She wrapped her arms around his neck. “You silly Russian. I love you right now.”
His smile was enormous. “You do?”
She nodded. “I do.”
“This is very good.” He kissed her again, just a quick one. “I’m going to buy our tickets.”
“That’s going to be hard to do with me in your arms.”
He laughed and set her down. “If there are seats available, we’l
l leave tomorrow.”
She nodded, feeling the somberness return. “I’ll give you my father’s credit card to pay for mine.”
“No. I will pay for it. You need a clean break from him. It starts now.”
She crossed her arms. “Are you bossing me around?”
Crestfallen, he shook his head. “I would not do that.”
She grinned and gave him a playful tap on the arm. “I’m teasing you. And I understand what you’re saying, but those tickets are going to be expensive on such short notice. You should let him pay for this one last thing.”
“You will fight me on this?”
“I will.”
Van frowned. “Fine. But after this, I will take care of things. Until you are on your feet. Deal?”
She wasn’t crazy about being indebted to him, even if it was the kindest, most generous thing anyone had ever offered to do for her, but what else could she do? She’d be homeless without his help. “Deal.”
“Good.”
“But I’m paying you back.”
He shrugged. “Okay.”
She dug out her father’s credit card and turned it over to Van. “I’m going to pack.” She headed for the kitchen.
He jerked his thumb in the opposite direction as she walked past. “The bedroom is that way.”
“But the chocolate isn’t.” She took out the box of millionaire truffles and tucked it under her arm. “Don’t worry, I’ll save you one.”
Emails to Pandora and Nick sent, Van now stared at his computer screen. He didn’t usually make his own flight arrangements because they were handled by the League’s travel department. It wasn’t hard, it was just unfamiliar. He sighed. The only flights to Vegas with vacant seats were tonight at eleven, tomorrow at eight, or two days from now on that same eight a.m. flight.
He picked the eleven p.m. flight. The seats were first class, which was all that was available, but also the only category he was interested in. He wasn’t built to fly coach. Plus, they could sleep.
He started to book the tickets, then realized he’d better check that he had Monalisa’s name right. He called out to her. “Monalisa, I need you in my office, please.”
The Dragon Finds Forever (Nocturne Falls Book 7) Page 19