Moonlit Magic

by T. M. Cromer

  “How would you know? You’re not here full-time.”

  “Touché.”

  When they halted in front of the main entrance, a tall, slender woman stood at the base of the stone steps. She looked to be in her mid-fifties, but the resemblance between her and her son was strong.

  “Your mother, I presume?”

  “Yes, that’s her.”

  “She’s stunning. And elegant. Oh, Goddess, I’m going to look like—”

  He clutched the hand flapping about. “To me, you’re the most beautiful woman in the world. Mother can be a snob, but you are who I choose. If it comes to pleasing my mother or pleasing myself, I will always please myself.”

  Rafe’s words calmed Liz’s building panic. “What about pleasing me?” she teased.

  “I will correct my statement. I will always please myself after pleasing you.”

  “That’s a whole lotta pleasing, babe.”

  “Did I fail to do the job earlier today?”

  Heat rose into her face, and Rafe laughed when she said, “I was particularly pleased. Multiple times.”

  With a wide, happy grin, he lifted their joined hands and kissed the inside of her wrist. “Let’s get this over with, shall we?”

  Chapter 22

  Rafe was a lot more nervous than he let on. If anything went wrong and Liz got hurt, he’d never forgive himself. Although, he’d probably never live long enough to regret it. Between Alastair Thorne and Damian Dethridge, the worst sort of hell would be rained down upon him fast and furiously.

  “Mother!” he called out and waved as he exited the car. Liz had already opened her door, but he held out a hand in support as she climbed from the low-slung sports car. The flash of thigh she exposed made him want to bundle her back inside and return to their hotel. He’d barely gotten his fill of her delectable body before the family had converged on them. At least this time, they got further than a kiss, and for that, he praised the Goddess he was able to modify the spell he’d enacted months ago.

  Hand in hand, Rafe and Liz approached the steps. His mother’s narrow-eyed stare was locked onto their hands.

  “Raphael.” The chilly tone spoke of her displeasure. Oh well, what else was new? He’d been disappointing her all his life.

  “Hello, Mother.”

  “That’s pretty formal,” Liz murmured next to him right before they reached the top.

  “She’s a formal woman and doesn’t offer a lot of warmth.”

  “That’s what you have me for.”

  Rafe fought a grin and squeezed her hand.

  His mother’s cold, flat eyes missed nothing. “Qu'est-ce qui est si amusant?”

  “In English, if you please.”

  Her brown-eyed gaze hardened. “But of course. What do you find so amusing, Raphael?”

  “Can I not simply be happy to see you?” He pressed a dutiful kiss to her smooth cheek.

  “Introduce me to your friend.”

  Rafe bristled under the order, but shoved down his irritation. It wouldn’t do to show her she’d gotten under his skin, just as she always did with her domineering ways and loveless parenting.

  “May I present Elizabeth Thorne?”

  No surprise lit her face. The lack of expression told Rafe everything he needed to know about his mother’s involvement in the Thorne’s magical mishap. She knew exactly who Liz was, and while his mother may not have actively targeted them, she damned well knew someone else had.

  “Ms. Thorne.”

  “Ms. Champeau.”

  He was proud of Liz’s cool greeting. She’d be able to hold her own when it came right down to it. Not that he’d ever dream of leaving her alone to manage the minefield of his family, but Rafe was confident she’d remain relatively unscathed should things blow up. Liz already seemed to sense this wasn’t about her and had everything to do with his horrid gene pool.

  Unease swept through him. Perhaps she’d be hesitant to marry him after this meeting. Would she see this as an indication he’d be a liability in the family department? He hadn’t realized he applied pressure to her hand until she brought the other up to pat his forearm. Loosening his grip, he shot her an apologetic glance.

  “You have a beautiful home, ma’am.”

  “Yes.”

  His brows shot up at his mother’s rudeness. Social niceties had been drilled into him since birth, by both his parents, with his mother being a harsh disciplinarian. Her departure from the norm spoke of exactly how rattled she was that a Thorne stood on her doorstep.

  “I believe the words you’re looking for are ‘thank you,’ Mother,” he said dryly.

  Her sneer spoke volumes. She wouldn’t be corrected, not by her son at any rate.

  “We’ve come a long way. Perhaps refreshments are in order,” he suggested.

  As they followed Josephine into the house, Liz cast him a questioning look. He shook his head. Later, when they were alone, he’d explain about the family dynamics. For the moment, they needed to get through the interview and score an invitation to stay the night so that they might dig deeper into the activities of Franco and Marguerite.

  After they were seated in the formal sitting room, his mother rang a small bell. Liz frowned when a young French serving girl with thick golden locks stepped into the room.

  “Oui, madame?”

  “My son and his… friend would like refreshments.” She tilted her head toward where they sat on the sofa. “Bread and cheese with wine?”

  “That would be lovely,” Liz replied with a soft smile. “Merci.”

  The pert serving girl stopped at the door, out of sight of Josephine, and grinned, giving them a jaunty little wave. GiGi Thorne-Gillespie was in her element. Rafe had met the woman the previous year when she patched him up after his run-in with Zhu Lin. Mischievous and full of life, she was incomparable and a joy to be around. The perfect counterpart to Ryker Gillespie, spymaster.

  Speaking of Ryker, Rafe suspected the gardener trimming the hedges outside the open terrace doors might be him. The man had inched closer to the room and had his head tilted to listen better. If it wasn’t Ryker, then the poor gardener had neck issues. For sure, his mother would never cast the man a second glance, because he was the hired help, and Josephine Champeau was above concerning herself with staff. Household affairs fell to his cousin Marguerite now.

  “Now, let’s get to the real reason you’re here, Raphael. It certainly isn’t to visit me, because you haven’t been home in close to thirty years.”

  “There was never much of a reason to return, Mother. As I recall, you called me a terrible disappointment when last we met.”

  Liz placed a hand on his knee and squeezed lightly. Not missing the gesture, Josephine opened her mouth to speak, but Rafe forestalled her.

  “It’s not important. What I’ve come to say is Liz and I are engaged to be married. I’d like Grand-mère’s ring, please.”

  All pretense at civility was lost when his mother curled her lip and turned hate-filled eyes on Liz. “Her? A Thorne?” Disdain dripped from her words. “You’d defile our bloodline by marrying an upstart Thorne?”

  Rafe barely heard Liz’s gasp over the pounding in his brain. Despite possessing a hard-edged willpower, he couldn’t seem to remove his horrified stare from his mother. Yes, she’d never shown any goodwill toward the Thornes or ever expressed a kind word in reference to the family, but she was never this enraged or nasty.

  “Would you care to tell me what my family has ever done to yours to deserve such blatant disrespect?” Liz’s tone was coated in ice. “As far as I know, none of us have ever had any dealings with your family prior to the incident with Marguerite and Ryker Gillespie.”

  The gardener outside fumbled his tool as GiGi, who had returned with a tray, drew in a sharp breath. Rafe didn’t dare look at either of them, or it would be a dead giveaway. As it was, he hoped his mother hadn’t registered their reactions.

  “Preston Thorne II was engaged to me when he ran off and married Rose
Smythe. Your family has a long line of rapscallions and an even longer history of breaking promises.”

  Rooted in place at the news her father had been promised to Josephine once upon a time, GiGi eyed them in horror. Rafe felt a little horrified himself.

  “Mother, that was back in ’forty-two. You can’t honestly be carrying a grudge for seventy-eight years?”

  Tears shimmered in her dark, forbidding eyes, and Rafe received his answer. She most definitely was.

  “I’m sorry that particular family member broke a commitment to you, but I’m his distant cousin at best, Ms. Champeau, and he’s long-since deceased. It has no bearing on my feelings for your son.”

  Josephine jerked her head and settled her fierce stare on Liz. “You will not marry my son!”

  “Begging your pardon, madame, but you don’t get to decide who he marries.”

  “I—”

  “Liz is the woman I choose, Mother. There will be no argument. If you provide the ring, we’ll be on our way.”

  “My mother’s ring will never touch her finger,” Josephine snapped.

  When Rafe stood to argue, Liz clutched his hand and drew him back down.

  “I understand your feelings, Ms. Champeau. Your mother’s ring is sacred to you and must hold great sentimental value. Rafe and I will design a different one.”

  “You know nothing, you little tart!”

  “Enough!” Rafe barked. Surging to his feet again, he drew Liz up with him. “You will not insult her.”

  “Did you know she was dating your cousin Franco only last week? You dare come here with a woman who played whore to another man, then have the gall to announce your engagement?”

  “I never slept with Franco. We—”

  Rafe held up a hand. “You don’t need to explain yourself, qalbi. We both know the truth.” He turned back to his mother. “Franco isn’t the man you believe he is. He’s a liar and has been draining the Champeau estate for years. All to fund his many failing businesses and dig himself out of trouble with the cartel. You’re a fool if you trust him.” He guided Liz around the coffee table and headed for the door. “I suppose this is our final goodbye, Mother.”

  “It’s not as if you’ve ever been a son I can be proud of.”

  * * *

  Liz didn’t know what happened. One second, she was in full control of herself, and the next, she was all up in Josephine’s business. “You shut your foul mouth, you heartless bitch!”

  The other woman stared at her as if she’d grown two heads. Her mouth opened and closed like a trout out of water, struggling to breathe.

  “Don’t you ever—and I mean ever—talk about Rafe like that again. He’s all that is good and kind in the world. He’s intelligent, brave, and he’s a thousand times the person you or your precious Franco will ever be.”

  “How dare you!”

  “Oh, I dare. I dare a great many things.” Fire flared in the palm of her hands, and she lifted them in a show of rage. This appalling excuse for a mother had some nerve. Talking down to Liz was one thing, but belittling the man she loved was quite another.

  “Liz!”

  Rafe’s concern penetrated the fury pounding in her brain.

  Snuffing out the flames, she leaned in closer to Josephine. “You should realize what you’ve done just now. You’ve not only lost your son, you’ve lost any access to the children he and I will have. Stay in this mausoleum and hold your bitterness tight, lady. I hope it keeps you warm at night.”

  “Let’s go,” Rafe said curtly, and with a hand on her elbow, he escorted her to their car.

  His stone-faced countenance made her worry she’d gone too far. “Rafe? Babe?”

  “Not now. We need to get out of here.”

  Without another word, she climbed into the passenger seat and buckled her seatbelt. She worried she’d crossed a line for which he couldn’t forgive her. Nobody appreciated when you told their mother off.

  When they were a half-mile down the road, he pulled the car to a stop and faced her. She belatedly registered he’d been too upset to use a seatbelt himself.

  “You were magnificent back there. No one has ever defended me so passionately before. No one,” he said gruffly.

  Relief surged through her. “She was wrong, babe. And when I think about the emotional abuse you must’ve suffered at her hands growing up…” Words failed her, and she wanted to sob for the lonely little boy he must’ve been. “I’m sorry, Rafe.”

  “Qalbi, please. Please don’t cry for the past.” He unhooked the seatbelt holding her secure and wrapped one of his large hands gently around the nape of her neck. “Don’t waste a single tear on her.”

  “Not on her,” she cried softly. “For you. Only for you, babe.”

  Without any fanfare, Rafe produced a handkerchief and dabbed at the tears trailing down her cheeks. “I don’t deserve your tears either.”

  “Too bad. You’re getting them anyway,” she retorted with a sniff.

  The smile starting on his sexy-ass mouth chased away the last of her sadness.

  “Did you see her face when you called her a ‘heartless bitch’?” He chortled. “I thought she would have a stroke on the spot.”

  “I’m glad you think it’s funny. I almost torched her.”

  “I’ve never seen you so fierce or so beautiful. I wish I could’ve captured the moment and frozen it in a picture forever.”

  “You’re twisted.”

  “Perhaps a little,” he agreed. “I guess your cousin GiGi and Ryker got quite the show.”

  She laughed. “Yes. Autumn will be cross she missed all the drama.”

  “Your confrontation with the matriarch of the Champeau family will go down in the Thorne Chronicles, to be read about for generations to come.”

  Suddenly, she couldn’t joke anymore. “I understand what you were trying to say in Alastair’s study, Rafe. The accident of birth.” She caressed his beloved face. “Any reservations I had about us are gone.”

  His wide, engaging grin stole the oxygen from her lungs. “So you’ll marry me for real?”

  “That would be my fondest wish.”

  * * *

  With shaking hands, Rafe dug into his pants pocket and pulled out the ruby-and-diamond ring that had once belonged to his grandmother, and presented it to Liz.

  “What’s this?”

  “Grand-mère’s ring.”

  “How… what… how did you get this?”

  “GiGi slipped it into my hand as we were walking out.”

  “I don’t know how I feel about this, babe. It seems to come with so much hatred.”

  “No, it comes with great love. Grand-mère was the most incredible woman I knew. Her ring was always intended for my future bride. That’s you.” He eased it onto her finger and ran his thumb around the band. The gold contracted to fit snugly. “Mother never had a say as to Grand-mère’s will, and I’m sure it’s why she was livid when I asked for it.”

  “Well, that and the fact that Preston II screwed her over. Can’t say I wouldn’t have been a little pissed if it had happened to me.”

  “I thought GiGi was going to drop the tray when Mother mentioned her father.”

  “No kidding! Talk about a shock. I’m sure she’ll have a lot to discuss with Alastair when she returns to the hotel.” She held up her hand to admire her new ring. A slow smile bloomed upon her face, spreading wider with each passing second. “Your grand-mère’s ring is stunning.”

  He gazed down at the square-cut, two-carat ruby ring framed by smaller diamonds that lent to the majesty of the piece. “Grand-père created it for his bride. He always said her eyes shone like the most brilliant jewel when she looked at him.”

  “Oh, Rafe! What a lovely sentiment!”

  “I’ve never seen two people more in love. I’ll also never understand how they had a daughter with such ugliness in her heart for everyone.” He shook his head at the morose thought. Now wasn’t the time to spoil his proposal with gloomy memories.

>   Placing a hand on either side of his face, Liz leaned in and gently kissed him. There was a softness to her amber gaze when she said, “Maybe Josephine’s bitterness is understandable. For as deeply and as passionately as your family loves, maybe Preston’s betrayal was more than she could bear and turned her heart to ash.”

  “Perhaps,” Rafe conceded. The knowledge of his mother’s broken engagement cleared up a lot of the questions he’d had in the past. Why she couldn’t seem to love him was the biggest. “It must be why my father divorced her so early into their marriage.”

  “How sad.”

  “Yes. He is a good man.”

  “I figured there was a fifty-fifty chance he was. You had to get your charming personality from one of them.”

  He laughed at her cheeky response. “Let’s go back to our hotel room and celebrate our engagement in style.”

  “My thoughts exactly, and we both know how much you love the way I think.”

  Chapter 23

  “What did you find out, child?”

  Liz took a sip of her morning coffee and checked to be sure Rafe was out of earshot before she answered Alastair. “That Josephine Champeau is the absolute worst sort of human being.”

  “Ryker and GiGi briefed me last evening on the argument. I was also informed you not only held your own, but you gave her what for.”

  “She’s a piece of work. Who tells their son he’s a disappointment? Especially a guy as amazing as Rafe?”

  Alastair lifted her hand to examine the ruby stone. “It’s a beautiful piece.”

  Warmth flooded her as she looked down at her new engagement ring. “I loved it the minute he showed it to me. It was his grandmother’s.”

  “My sister said she had quite a time, appropriating it from the safe.”

  As she imagined her cousin’s antics, Liz laughed. “She’s reached hero status in Rafe’s eyes.”

  When the smile left Alastair’s face and his expression turned serious, she took a deep breath. “Out with it, cousin.”