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CHAPTER 20
The women had stayed up too late talking in the darkness, giggling like kids away at camp. Things that might not be funny otherwise are funnier when you're supposed to be going to sleep.
Katrina had previously arranged the wedding party as three bridesmaids, not wanting to distinguish between any of her future sisters-in-law. She shocked everyone, Litha most of all, by insisting that she would be maid of honor and Katrina made it clear she wouldn't take no for an answer.
When the fairer sex woke the next morning, the men were not in the house. They were found at the front of the house on the gravel drive standing around a fire engine red, convertible Aston Martin like it was an altar. The rain had not done a thing to sully the mirror finish paint.
On her approach Litha used the remote key to pop the trunk open. "Would somebody help me with my luggage?"
Storm settled an instantly heated gaze on her and walked toward her like she was the only person alive. This attention from him was such an abrupt about face from when she had slipped dimension that she hadn't even begun to adjust to seeing him with an expression of desire on his face. Desire for her. Barely suppressing a full on shiver, she leaned up and whispered in his ear. "It's a gift from my father."
Storm's eyes were lit like firecrackers when he looked down at her with just a hint of smile. Life was going to be so interesting. "I take it you had a good time."
She laughed. "I confess."
"How 'bout a ride?"
She smiled. His eyes went straight to her mouth and stayed there while he watched her lips form the question, "Want to drive?"
He dragged his gaze up to her eyes and without looking away said loud enough for the others to hear, "We're going to go pick up stuff for breakfast. What do... y'all want?"
They got a list and directions to the H.E.B. in Kerrville. The sun was out and, after the big rain, every leaf was shiny. The world looked and smelled new, like it had been polished bright for a wedding. Litha handed Storm the keys. He stopped right before they pulled out onto the highway.
"Did I mention I missed you?"
Litha's heart turned over. "No," she said quietly, grasping at the anticipation of what she hoped was coming next.
"Well." He treated her to a suggestive smile that she'd had no idea he possessed. "I did. A lot."
After breakfast Litha went to the bunkroom to open her luggage and shake out some clothes to see what might look good enough to wear into town with the other women for the ritual preparing of nails, both finger and toe. That was when she discovered her father's bigger surprise.
One of the two Gucci suitcases was filled with clothes she had bought while Deliverance was "busy". Each item of clothing was a memory: this one bought in Buenos Aires, this one in Paris, and so on.
The other bag, the bigger and far heavier of the two, was filled with cash. She had no idea how much and zipped it closed as soon as she saw what was in it. She was sure there was enough money there to buy her vineyard, no matter what they asked. She just hoped this wasn't cash that the treasury department was looking for. She stowed the bag underneath the bunk bed and started trying to process what it felt like to be rich.
Storm spent most of the day making preparations for a special project. He borrowed a car to go into town promising to be back in plenty of time for the wedding rehearsal at five. Everyone who had come for the wedding was invited to the resort upstream for the rehearsal dinner and disco lessons after.
Storm didn't find out until the actual rehearsal was underway that Katrina had insisted that Litha be her maid of honor. Litha was a little embarrassed about it, but she was also a little pleased. She told Storm that she supposed Katrina was partial to women who agree to take her place in hostage situations.
All the participants walked through the mock ceremony, taking instructions from Katrina's mother, who wasn't especially thrilled about either the rushed wedding or the greatly pared-down concept, but, since she assumed this meant a grandchild was on the way, she cooperated with as much grace as she could muster.
The configuration was typical. Kay and Katrina would leave the bridal bower first. Litha was then to take Storm's arm so that the two of them followed bride and groom down the aisle. When Litha hooked her arm through Storm's, he tightened his hold pulling her closer into his body which made her laugh, astounding him with the knowledge that he had the power to give someone such delight with such a small gesture.
When the wedding party arrived at the resort, a little crowd of guests had already assembled outside by the pool. They were having crawfish etouffee, stuffed jumbo shrimp, pasta jambalaya, blackened redfish, dirty rice and beans, green salad, and jalapeno corn bread with a choice of Bananas Foster, sweet potato bread pudding, or plain Blue Bell ice cream for dessert.
Ram took one look at the spread and turned to Elora with a grin. "I plan to eat 'til I can no' stand up."
"You know you worry me," she said. Then putting her mouth next to his ear she whispered. "If you refrain from outright gluttony, I will sneak out of the girls' dorm tonight."
He narrowed his eyes and looked suspicious. "Promise?"
"I do. But only if you have enough energy to make it worth my while."
She could see devilish wheels turning and was glad she'd planted that thought. Clearly, a night on his own had made her mate eager.
He nuzzled her ear and whispered. "We will need to secure tape for your pretty mouth or every soul in this open window county will know you slipped away to your elf's bed."
She laughed, but wasn't entirely sure he was kidding. Ram stole looks at her throughout dinner that said he was enjoying the idea of illicit sex and that he fully planned to make up for the previous night's deprivation.
Between the parents of the bride and groom, aunts, uncles, cousins, boyfriends and various other "essential" friends, there were about fifty guests present.
Storm and Litha were seated at the wedding party table, but not together. He just wanted this over with. He had plans.
She had worn a red silk sundress that made the sexy color of her skin look even warmer and more touchable. It made her lips appear even redder than usual, a good trick considering, and made her eyes sparkle. Or maybe it was just the way she looked at him that made her eyes seem to sparkle.
His own eyes never left her for more than a minute at a time. Each time his gaze came back to her, he found himself appreciating every little thing as if it was the first time he'd seen her.
After dinner, Katrina's mother proudly introduced the disco instructor they had brought in from Houston and his lovely assistant with fanfare. They called all would-be participants to the dance area and demonstrated a few moves. First, they gave a brief overview on the "spirit" of disco dancing. Then, when the guru of dance gave the signal, a sound tech cranked the big speakers and the night was filled with the thump, thump, thump of disco base.
Some of the partygoers were old enough to have danced disco when it was en vogue. Others had picked it up for retro parties. Then, there was Katrina who was a fanatical devotee and Kay who was fanatically devoted to making Katrina happy - no matter the cost to his image.
Ram wanted to dance. He looked around for Elora, but she was involved in conversation so he hit the floor by himself. Ram seemed to make a habit of being extraordinary and his dancing was no exception to that rule. He was wearing loafer type shoes with leather soles that slid easily so that he could move effortlessly. Elora had often thought he possessed dancer-like grace whether he was sparring or hunting or just walking across the Hub. He managed to move with the joy and abandon of elves without sacrificing the tiniest bit of masculine dignity. He didn't go in for exaggerated pelvic grinds or bumps; the kind of "dancing" that many men mistake for playfully sexy when its effect is similar to throwing cold water on femme spectators. No indeed. His rhythmic movement was an instant magnet to feminine attention.
Perhaps it wasn't fair that one person seemed to come packed with more than
his share of gifts, but fate doesn't concern itself with balance. He was enjoying the music, enjoying the sensation of the dance and was completely oblivious to the fact that he was Pan in the flesh.
One of Katrina's cousins saw that he was dancing alone. Not knowing anything more about him than that he was scrumptious and a fabulous dancer, she thought to seize an opportunity. She appeared in front of Ram, far too close, and began dancing suggestively. Aggressively so. He took an abrupt step backward and gave her a look that would have sent most women slinking away. But, the pseudo-temptress was either oblivious to body language and facial expression or she was under the influence of far too many frozen margaritas, which, in fairness, do have a tendency to sneak up on partygoers.
Elora had just happened to glance toward the dance floor. When Ram looked over the top of the girl's head, what he saw was flame headed, wrath-of-goddess charging toward them with eyes blazing in fully incensed battle rage.
Just before she reached her target, Elora raised her right hand. Ram could read her intention. The girl was about to be 'snatched baldheaded'. He quickly stepped around the body in front of him, caught Elora's wrist in his right hand, and braced himself, allowing her to slam into his body instead. Though he was vibrating from the blow, he caught his wife around the waist with his other arm, pulled her into a tight, slow dance pose, and refused let go.
Where his grip held her wrist he could feel her pulse pounding. She was so angry she was breathing like she'd been sprinting. Under some circumstances that would be exciting, but he couldn't let that distract him from his purpose which was to calm his bride and talk her down from wanting to murder a severely misguided little horndogess.
There was a part of him that was ecstatic about having a mate whose passionate excesses were a match for his own. She fought and fucked and argued as hard as he did. And, it seemed, she was every bit as possessive.
Elora started to jerk away, still seeing red and needing blood under her fingernails. He grabbed on tighter and swayed with her slowly, cheek to cheek, offering quiet murmurs of reassurance that he was hers alone. Of course she could have overpowered him if she'd wanted to, but that made having her submit to his demand all the sweeter. "It makes me so hot when you are territorial with me."
He felt her body soften and begin to relax a little. She pulled her head back far enough to look him in the face. "Then you must be burning up with fever all the time."
Ram tilted his head back so that his eyes were half lidded and lifted the corners of his mouth. "Aye. 'Tis definitely so."
"You saved that skank's hair, Hero, but she will not be getting a chance to thank you for it."
He chuckled softly. "Could have been more than just her hair at risk from the fire I saw in your eye. I saved you from causin' a scene at our teammate's weddin' rehearsal dinner; somethin' you never would have done when we first met."
"I know." She relaxed some more and her shoulders sagged. "What's wrong with me?"
His smile grew bigger as his tone turned to teasing. "You seem to have developed a severe intolerance for others sniffin' 'round your mate. Could mean you love me."
"You think?"
"Remember that night when we were on break at Notte Fuoco? When you grabbed that woman's hair?"
She narrowed her eyes. "That woman? You mean the drunk slut with the ridiculous pony-do? Yes. I remember."
He thought she was unbearably adorable when she was jealous. "I'm thinkin' that you had already recognized me as your mate. At least in your heart. Your brain just had no' caught up yet."
Elora wasn't accustomed to feelings of extreme anger or impulsivity or even aggression for that matter. There was nothing desirable about those emotions. In fact, the sensations were altogether uncomfortable. She had felt so threatened she couldn't breathe when she saw another female moving in on her mate. Maybe it was a burden to be paired with somebody so beautiful and charismatic. She mulled that over for only two seconds before deciding that he was worth the price - whatever it was.
Her pulse and breathing had returned to normal. She responded to Ram's observation with a tiny, little smile and the raspy, bedroom voice that never failed to bring his manhood to full attention. "Tell me what you have in mind for later."
He buried his face in her neck where he could drag in her wild jasmine scent and grinned against her skin. "Ravishin'."
Storm was on the sidelines giving the demonstration a look that could have passed for the "evil eye", but, when the dancing started, his interest ignited. It would have been impossible not to pick Litha out in her red, silk sundress. She wasn't dancing with anyone in particular because this was supposed to be a lesson. Storm's assessment was that she moved like he imagined a fertility goddess would dance if she visited Hunt, Texas on a warm night during the season of Beltane. He looked around to see if anyone else was looking at his witch because he could use something to do and throttling perverts might be the perfect thing to take the edge off.
While he was looking around, she came up behind him and spoke. Thank the gods for years of training or he would have jumped
"Do you disco?" she asked coming around to his side.
"Not even if a legion of demons was after me."
She laughed, but was thinking, "How about just one?"
"I do waltz though."
“You do not.”
The responding glitter in his eyes said maybe he was telling the truth. He pulled her into a dance pose, but they quickly learned that there’s no way to waltz to disco music.
“Okay, there’s another option.”
“I’m listening.”
She became very aware of the warmth of his big hand covering hers. He lowered his other arm to wrap around her waist and gently pulled her closer until there was not a hair's width between them. She hissed in a breath of air softly, but not so softly that he didn't hear it.
“There’s also very, very slow.”
Litha was going to have to revise her opinion of herself as worldly woman because damn if that didn’t actually make her knees feel mushy.
While the rest of the guests jumped and jived, Storm and Litha swayed gently in each other's arms. Storm didn't think he'd experienced many moments in his life that could be called magical. There were plenty he would call peculiar, weird, and even bizarre, but magical... not so much. He was thinking that Litha was opening up a whole new world of experiences he'd never had before. She was a miracle.
"Who's that with your friend, Storm?" Kay's mother asked him.
"Someone from work. Her name is Litha Brandywine."
"They certainly are a handsome couple."
Kay had to agree that they almost looked like they had been conceived as a matched pair.
Litha was trying to impress every sensation onto long-term memory, especially the promise implied by the erection pressing against her, captivating the attention of both her mind and body. She was wondering how long they were expected to stay at the party and was thinking about suggesting an escape when they were interrupted by Dandie.
"That's cheating y'all." She grabbed Litha by the wrist to drag her away saying that they were about to form a circle and have a ladies only dance around the bride. Litha looked back at Storm apologetically as she allowed herself to be tugged away. Storm was thinking the whole concept of a ladies only dance was misguided because it's bad manners to upstage a bride and Litha couldn't help it.
The women danced around Katrina proving conclusively that when it comes to dancing chicks rule, with the exception of Rammel Hawking.
While the women demonstrated every possible form of joy and gyration, Kay made gentlemanly rounds pouring shots of Irish whiskey. When Storm held up his hand to pass on the offer, Kay raised an eyebrow. "You need to talk?"
Storm just smiled secretively. "Got plans later."
Kay was curious, but moved on to the next outstretched glass without another word.
Storm took one of the cars and drove back to the house before the party broke up. He change
d into jeans and a tee shirt then set out with a flashlight. About forty yards up river he found just what he was looking for; a vacation home similar to the one Kay's family owned, lovingly attended with an expanse of short cropped, wide bladed grass sloping down to the widest part of the river. Best of all, it was evident that no one was in residence.
He returned to the screen porch to retrieve the supplies that he had stowed under his cot and had just let the screen door swing closed behind him when he heard the crunch of cars pulling onto the shell and gravel drive. He hurried away so he wouldn't be seen.
When Litha finished the bride's dance, she was disappointed that she couldn't find Storm and was even more disappointed that he wasn't at the house either. While she was wondering if she'd said something wrong, she pulled out her pretty thin, white nightgown. It was cotton which meant it could breathe, just the right thing for a warm Hill Country night in a river house with the windows left open.
Storm unzipped the nylon sleeping bag and laid it down first to provide a barrier against the wet grass. On top of that he put two layers of new cotton blankets. When he had opened the packages earlier in the day, he thought they smelled funny, like chemicals, so he had personally run them through the washer and dryer. He didn't know how to use laundry appliances, but, with the women gone into town, between himself, Kay, and Ram they figured it out by means of trial and error. He made the excuse to them that he needed more cover on the porch.
He smoothed the wrinkles out of the soft blankets and was proud that, when he put his face into the fabric, they smelled sweet like good clean soap.
He took out the bottle of wine. He'd been surprised and ecstatic to find a bottle of Cairdeas Deo brandy. It wasn't cheap. She had said it was a very good brandy. And it was fitting that a brandy she was named after be the very best. It seemed Kerrville had some well-heeled, wine patrons among the wealthy who vacationed and retired there.
The Witch's Dream - A Paranormal Romance (The Order of the Black Swan, BOOK TWO) Page 27