Ruth frowned. “I thought you said it was Vogue? It’s definitely one of those high-end glossy magazines.”
“It is,” Goran came back swiftly. “But probably not one you’ve heard of before. It’s read mainly by the jewellery industry, art critics, auction houses, that kind of thing. The magazine is sold by subscription only.”
Ruth was plainly vexed. “Oh, dear. I was looking forward to reading what you thought about our little community.”
“I shall ensure you receive your own personalized copy,” Goran offered.
Singular delight shone in Ruth’s eyes. “My own copy! Oh, Mr Thoreaux, how can I thank you?”
“Your appreciation is evident. No thanks are necessary.”
And how that was going to happen, Aden pondered, was a mystery when no such magazine existed. His friend was going to have to get very creative in a short space of time to produce a magazine of quality articles on various artists, even with the aid of magic.
The task should keep him busy and out of trouble for a week or two whilst ensorcelled in Raven’s Creek.
• • •
Rosa stood next to the podium, the spotlight shining brightly on her. She had never been so acutely aware of her singleness. She had never felt so alone. Sweet Goddess, I’m in your hands. Do with me what you will.
Her attention turned to her sisters, who sat side by side, their hands linked together, faces upturned, expectant and hopeful. She looked to Goran. He winked wildly at her. Rosa winked back, and many of the men gathered began to bicker amongst themselves as to whom Rosa had actually winked at.
Finally, she turned her attention to the one man she had offered her heart to and had so callously rebuffed her. Aden Dragunis: Dragon of Marylebone. She now hid that love she had so willingly offered behind a façade of indifference, her mind all the while churning with concern. If he didn’t win her, what would she do?
The room erupted in an uproar and everyone was on their feet. Except for Aden and her two sisters. Maurice, it seemed, had announced the winner, and she had not heard a thing. Who was it? She frowned and surveyed the room. Men were tossing tickets on the tables and floor in disgust or disappointment depending on how they felt about the result. Money was changing hands.
And then Goran was at her side.
Rosa’s heart plummeted. Sweet Goddess! This is your will? Surely not! Gentle words spoke directly to her heart. Patience. Wait. The Goddess never spoke to her. Her eyes widened in surprise, and she wanted to ask Her a million questions.
Goran bent down and whispered sternly into her ear. “Smile. Look pleased. And breathe before you fall!”
Maurice pounded Goran on the back. “Enjoy your evening, you two. Providence indeed, Rosa, when Goran is already sitting at your side, but to make the evening more special, the committee has set a small table on the embankment, where you can enjoy the rest of this wonderful night and get to know each other,” his voice dripped with innuendo, “on a more intimate basis.”
The room erupted into wolf whistles and hoots of laughter. Numb with disappointment, she let Goran lead her down the steps back to her table to collect her evening bag.
Aden stood and made a show of shaking Goran’s hand before Maurice arrived and pounded Aden on the back. “Worst luck, mate. Better luck next time.” And worst of all, “The better man won!”
Aden’s stony silence disappointed her. Say something. His dark eyes a pool of black, his aura a brilliant display of light and color, he looked her squarely in the eye, and she had the strangest feeling he was relieved. She was suddenly furious.
“You had your chance — ” she leaned over and whispered, unable to hide her sadness, “ — and you blew it. Do you have to hover over me like vengeance is nigh on my last night as a magical being?”
“I’m not hovering,” he whispered back through clenched teeth.
“Yes. You. Are. Now back off. Goran won. You lost.” She could not be any clearer. If only she did not feel she was the loser in this farce. “Accept it. I have.”
• • •
Fairy lights were strung from one lamppost to another through the trees and along the length of the embankment. People spilled out to dance and chatter under the moonlight as well as in the marquee. Goran was the perfect partner, pandering to her every need when all she really wanted was to go home. But she was made of sterner stuff. She would not hide. She smiled, laughed, and pretended she was loving every minute. No one guessed she was slowly dying inside.
There was Verve Cliquot in an ice bucket at their table. “Drink up.” Goran shoved a glass into her hand. “Pretend to enjoy yourself just a little. For me. You’ll ruin my reputation, and my reputation is all I have.”
That caused a small sputter of laughter. “Somehow I don’t think one night with me is going to spoil anything for you.”
Goran refilled her glass. “Correction. I can think of one person who’s ready to kill me.” He inclined his head, indicating Aden, who stood sentinel on the edge of the embankment.
“I think there’s more than one,” she told him, playing along for want of anything better to do. “There’s nearly an entire town vying for my hand in marriage.”
“Rosa!” Goran’s dramatic exclamation deserved an Oscar. “If I ever get to leave this small but wonderful place, I fear Aden will never let me forget this night. We must concoct a plan.”
That startled and intrigued her. “What kind of plan?”
“One where you end up with him, and I, how do you say, am discarded like an old rag.”
“Get over the dramatics and tell me what you really mean.”
“Aden should be at your side. Not me.”
“I put my life in the Goddess’s hands, and you were the winner.”
“Your Goddess has a warped sense of humor.”
“I’m not laughing.”
“And neither am I, no matter how it seems. Aden deserves better. As do you. If you care for him, you must fight for him.”
“I’ve tried.”
“Try harder.”
“I’ve thrown myself at him, and he’s thrown me right back. I’m done with trying. It’s up to him now.”
Goran sent her an overly charming, enigmatic grin. “Well, then. Maybe it’s me that should do a little throwing.” He clinked his glass with hers. “Drink up, Rosa. You need to trust I know what I’m doing.”
“What are you doing?” Rosa frowned. Goran was meddling in her life now.
“If I tell you, you might disappear, so — ” he touched her nose with an index finger, “ — patience, please.”
Patience. Had she not heard that word from the Goddess? So, as much as she wanted to cut the evening short and run home to cry a bathtub of tears, she allowed Goran to cajole her into drinking the champagne and pretending to anyone that came by to congratulate them that all was as it should be.
• • •
Aden‘s heart pounded as he watched Rosa dancing with his best friend. He, Aden, was a wretched and pathetic excuse for a warlock, standing around doing absolutely nothing while Goran taunted him as he swung Rosa about in his arms. That man was evil and Aden knew his friend was purposely doing it to aggravate him into action.
Could living his life without Rosa actually be more tortuous, more agonizing than losing Lydia? How could he bear it if that was his truth? How could he endure another four hundred years knowing he had passed up a chance to experience love for a second time? To have a partner he could share his life with? To grow old with?
Rosa was soft, gentle, strong, and tenacious. He adored her strength, her loyalty to her sisters. She was powerful and close to mastership. Could he give her up? Could he face a short but loving future with Rosa? Was it better than not loving her at all?
Rosa continued to dance with Goran, their bodies close, her head restin
g against his shoulder. Aden snarled, and, before he could allow himself to think too deeply, he marched over and tapped Goran on the shoulder. “I need to speak with Rosa.”
Goran twirled Rosa away. “I don’t think so. I won her fair and square. She’s mine.”
“Excuse me,” Rosa protested, deep within the arms of a man who was more than worthy of her. “I’m not a trophy.”
Goran spun Rosa away again. Aden followed. “You’ve had your fun. There are a few things I’d like to say. To Rosa. Alone.”
“Do it tomorrow,” Goran told him shortly. “Tonight is for dancing.”
“Yes,” Rosa agreed, her eyes alight with challenge. “I’ll speak with you if you dance with me first.”
Goran laughed. “He won’t dance. He never dances with anyone.”
Aden’s fingers itched to turn his friend into a centipede so he could trample over the top of him. “I can dance.”
Goran cocked a cynical brow and Aden knew why. Only magic would enhance his lack of skill in that department. Aden whipped up a quick spell. “For you, Rosa. I will dance.”
Goran glared at Aden and issued a warning that had nothing to do with dance moves. “Superior or no, one wrong step from you and I’m cutting back in,” and then he thrust Rosa into Aden’s arms and disappeared into the marquee.
The silhouettes of Aden and Rosa’s profiles under the fairy lights merged into one. Stepping into each other’s arms, awkward at first, they swayed on the spot in time with the music.
An intense longing overwhelmed Rosa, making her incapable of speech. It was just a dance. But he had come to her. That was good. Right? She leaned back to gauge what his eyes were telling her. A love to mirror her own was what she sought, and for a fleeting heartbeat, she saw his soul, saw the real Aden. Kind, loving, amusing, confused, lonely, and longing for love. Hope welled within Rosa’s heart. She averted her eyes and leaned in, letting the length of their bodies caress in the lightest of touches. She rested her head against his shoulder and reveled in the pressure of his hand against her back.
His heart beat strongly against her ear. This was heaven. Something new resonated within him. There was no need for enchantments or spells. The fairy lights flickered and dimmed, but a brighter light of truth burned in Rosa. The air smelled fresher, the stars shone more intensely, the world pulsed with opportunity.
Aden’s breathing altered, and his heart skipped a beat. Could he feel the love streaming from her pores, encompassing them in a spontaneous spell as they swayed sensuously across the dewy grass? His fingers tightened over hers, and she lifted her head and captured the stark determination in his eyes.
He did not falter. His gaze held hers, and she knew this time he would not run away. Enthralled, her heart hammered against her breastbone. Elation swept through Rosa. He had changed his mind. Her cheek brushed his, and she damped down the butterflies fluttering in her stomach when he lowered his head, his lips a whisper away from hers.
“Tonight,” he said fiercely. “Tonight is ours.”
• • •
Goran never returned to reclaim Rosa. He watched them for all of ten seconds and knew there would be no reason to return. Looking around, he caught Beth swaying her hips in time to the music and smiling as she quietly observed her sister dancing with Aden. The gentle one. The one who made him soft when he should be hard. He contemplated asking her to dance, but Alanna stepped into his vision and a growl rumbled in his throat. He had his work cut out for him with that one.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Aden stopped outside Lavender Cottage’s gate, his hand in Rosa’s. He kissed the knuckles of her hand and looked into her eyes, assuring himself she still wanted this. “Are you coming in?”
He had good reason to think she would turn him down, but Rosa shot him an are you kidding me look. “I’m convinced you’re the one for me. I’m not about to change my mind now. It’s you I’m expecting to say this isn’t going to happen. Why the change of heart now at the eleventh hour?”
“I don’t know what tomorrow will bring. I’m not promising you anything other than tonight,” Aden uttered. “There is so much I need to tell you. Do you still want to come in?”
She prayed the Goddess that one night would be enough. “I’ll not pass this moment up. I’d be a fool to turn away now.”
Aden squeezed her hand tight and pulled her into him, his arms circling around her, gripping her tight. “Hold on, then.” The air shimmered around them both, and he translocated Rosa directly to his bedroom. Another quick spell illuminated the room with a few well-placed orbs, just enough for Rosa to see the fierce desire burning in Aden’s eyes — for him to see the truth of her love in hers.
Aden smoothed a shaky hand over her curled tendrils. He caressed her cheek with his knuckles and whispered the words Rosa had longed to hear. “I want you.” Soft and gentle, the sound of his voice floated over her in a caress. “I crave you.”
Rosa whimpered a weak, “Oh,” as the air shimmered in arcs of silver around them, entwining their auras and offering her a link to his soul. It was as close as they could possibly get without actually officially binding their souls as one. As they tentatively melded, she was presented with an intimate glimpse of how tortured Aden had once been and how, only recently, he’d begun to mend. That she had been instrumental in effecting that change filled her with elation. His heart beat fast and sure within his chest, the nourishment of her love making him stronger with every breath he took.
His was a love so new and still so very, very fragile. Tomorrow might very well bring sadness, but now there was an incredible arc of magic building between them. She let down her defenses, the guards she’d put in place to prevent her magic from flaming out, knowing Aden would balance the flow of uncontrollable energy she could no longer harness by herself. She would give him everything, show him just how much she believed the blending of their union was the only way forward.
Whether she won or lost in this final gamble, she would have this night to remember always.
Rosa’s sandalwood and rose scent enticed and lured him in. He inhaled as his fingertips trailed down the smooth plane of her neck, over her shoulders and down her back. He held her closely against him. Nuzzling in, he traced a row of kisses down her neck and slid one of the thin, diamanté shoulder straps aside to continue his plunder. Barely able to stem the urgency thrumming in his veins, he paused long enough to provide Rosa the opportunity to stop. He looked at her, a question in his eyes, and was overwhelmed by what he saw. His past, his present, and his future, if he wanted it, all bundled together in one heart-stopping prize.
Rosa. All his for the taking.
“Warlocks’ Oath.” Aden shoved aside the second shoulder strap. The material slid to pool at her waist, leaving her breasts bare. “I’ve never met anyone like you,” he admitted. “You undo me.”
He dipped his head, lathed the hollow of her clavicle with his tongue, and trailed a series of butterfly kisses down between her breasts. He knelt, his hands smoothing over the slight curve of her narrow hips and down until he reached the hem of her long gown. Bunching the diaphanous folds, he shoved them upwards, baring her legs. Rosa’s head rocked back. Her knees threatened to buckle.
“If this isn’t heaven — ” she uttered, her voice heavy with heartfelt emotion, “ — then I don’t know what is.”
Cupping her buttocks, Aden pressed his lips to the material covering the apex of her thighs. Oh, yes! That was heaven! She collapsed to her knees on the hardwood floor, the sensation of her skin brushing against his tuxedo heightening her desire to be touched, skin against skin. Rosa tugged his shirt from his trousers and fumbled to release the buttons. She grasped the ends and tore them open. Buttons popped and flew in different directions. Aden growled when her hands touched the hard planes of his chest. She leaned into him, arching her body, deliberately scraping her breasts a
gainst him. Skin against skin. Exquisite torture.
“You’re my heaven,” Aden breathed, his voice husky and ragged. “You’re everything I imagined you’d be. And then some.”
Rosa’s heart leaped in her chest. She lost herself in Aden, her sole focus, her one desire, the warlock she intended to love for the rest of her life. “Show me how much you love me, Aden. Show me how you feel.”
He didn’t need further invitation. Aden eased the rest of her dress down past her hips until it bunched in a heap at her knees. Rosa worked his belt free and slid the fastening open and the zip down. Her sensitive nipples pulsed an exquisite urge to her womb. Rosa’s hand smoothed down to cup Aden, feeling the weight and length of him. She felt empowered by the gruff moan Aden released at her touch. He rocked into her hand. He cupped a breast and slid to his knees, bending his head to lave the other nipple while she continued her exploration.
No magic, no imagination, no homework had prepared her for this. Her eyes drifted closed as his lips and teeth tugged, pulled on her breast. His free hand skimmed a wayward trail over her stomach until his fingers slipped into her barely there underwear and cupped her intimately. A mere flick of his finger as he slicked his way to her entrance triggered an unexpected, pulsing orgasm before they’d even fully started. Her skin took on a rosy hue; she felt her cheeks and chest flush. Her eyes popped open, and she stared into eyes that glowed with triumph and red-hot need. He stood, held out a hand, and when she grasped it, he tugged and picked her up in his arms, leaving her dress in a puddle on the floor and carried her to the bed. Divesting himself of the rest of his clothing he pulled out a foil packet from his tuxedo pants and started all over again, until she was a screaming mass of need.
So exquisitely he played her until it was clear he could no longer hold back. He ripped the condom packet open with his teeth before taking the protection out and easing it on. Rosa took over, rolling it down, hugging the shaft, wanting him inside her. Now. He was hard. Strong. And he was hers. All of him.
The Silver Rose Page 20