Morning's Light (Cavaldi Birthright Book 2)

by Brea Viragh

  “You’re trying to tell me I’m too young?” he asked wetly.

  She scowled against a rush of feeling. “That’s not what I said. Stop putting words in my mouth. I’m saying you have nice round cheeks.”

  “You like my cheeks. Good to know.” Elon fluffed up and pretended to preen.

  “Oh, hush. You’re young, that’s the end of it.”

  “Not too young to love.”

  She didn’t like how the conversation suddenly veered away from safe territory. “Love for some things, not for others.”

  “I suppose that’s true. You really love your family,” he responded.

  Aisanna deliberately kept her gaze on the arrangement, swiveling around for the last of her freesias. “For all their faults and failures—my own as well—I do. I…I don’t want anything to happen to them. I’m the oldest. I’m supposed to make sure of it.”

  “That’s a lot of pressure to put on your shoulders.”

  Her laugh was bitter. “You have no idea.”

  She charmed him. Elon could listen to her speak for hours on end, her voice like a soft melody. There was no accent, no exotic lilt to set it apart from others. When she spoke she did so clearly, with a hint of a trill, as if on the verge of song.

  She glanced around. “I need more baby’s breath.”

  “I’ll go.”

  “No.” She waved him down before he rose. “I’ve got it. It will only take me a minute.” She glanced over as she rose. “Stop sniffing the flowers and keep working.”

  “Me? Stopping to smell the roses?” Elon set down the bouquet. “I don’t know what would give you that impression. I’ve been working steadily through the afternoon.”

  “Presentation is half the battle. Remember that, Mr. Fayer,” she said, pleased with the progress.

  Aisanna continued behind the counter, bending at the waist to search for her ever-ready stash of baby’s breath. At the touch of his hand on her spine, she froze.

  It struck her then. They were standing very close.

  “You need to rest before you pass out. Please, sit. Let me handle this.” He reached past her and grabbed the carton they needed.

  “I don’t like being coddled,” she said irritably.

  Elon walked back to their prep table, set the baby’s breath down. “I wouldn’t dream of coddling you. You’re a strong woman, Aisanna. I’m here to help you when you don’t think you need it, and when you don’t ask for it. I can see the secrets you try to hide.”

  “I don’t want to talk about secrets. There’s too many. And it’s not your concern.”

  “I’m not asking you to talk about it. One day, if you feel like you can, you’ll tell me.”

  “What are you trying to say?”

  “I’d rather talk about me and you.”

  “There is no me and you.”

  He peered at her, his fingers working on their own accord. Pieces filled in under his ministrations and the arrangements practically completed themselves. “There may be if you give it a chance. There’s something here between us. I know you feel it, too.”

  “I don’t need a man in my life. Not in any serious capacity. I have nothing against you, Elon. I’m just not looking for anything,” she answered slowly. “You’re a handsome guy. Take the compliment and leave it alone.”

  Elon recognized her discomfort. He knew she would rather talk about anything else other than the chemistry between them. And try as she might to deny it, he knew.

  It was there.

  “Stop getting your hackles up over silly things,” he observed and continued working. “Thank you for the compliment. It means you’ve considered me. Some men want a woman who will cave and give up the fight immediately.” He shrugged. “Not me. It seems an arrangement like that would get boring quickly. No spark, no flame. No passion.”

  She shifted awkwardly from foot to foot, the mention of sparks and flames igniting a curious feeling in her chest. “Can we stop talking? I don’t want sparks.”

  “Everyone does. Even me.” He paused, his voice low. Measured. “If you don’t give in to those sparks every now and then, you could miss something great. If you didn’t put the flames into your flowers…then your business wouldn’t be half as successful. Don’t you agree?”

  She knew he would not give in, would not back down easily. He would continue the topic of conversation whether she wanted him to or not. Loath to admit it, part of her enjoyed the back and forth. The mention of flames brought Israel to mind. She tucked him away, knowing he had no business there. Not then.

  “Maybe. You think you’re clever, don’t you?”

  He grinned. “I have my moments. You know, if this were a real date we would have a meal in addition to these beautiful flowers.” Elon gestured at the spread. “We’d be stuck inside with the snow falling, a fire roaring, and a blanket wrapped around us, maybe a couple of mugs of hot chocolate to keep us toasty.”

  “Sounds comfortable. Would we be at a ski lodge?”

  “Depends on whether you’d like watching me fall down on the slopes.”

  “I could go for some hot chocolate,” she admitted.

  “One day. A better date, I think, would include nicer weather a little closer to home. We might take a walk by the lake, look at the stars overhead, and see where the evening takes us.”

  “Ah, there you go again.” Aisanna leaned on the counter and shook her finger at him. “The magic word is if. Or date, rather. Two magic words. It will never happen.”

  “Never say never. Maybe one day I’ll get up the nerve to ask you out for real. And maybe then you would say yes.”

  She couldn’t think of a compelling reason to refuse him. Yes, maybe. One day she wouldn’t need to tell him. Oh, it would be nice, she thought, then shook herself at the realization.

  Needle points of ice and snow pelted against the shop window. Midmorning turned into afternoon and soon it would be time to load their wares into the van and head across town.

  “Enough. I’m done talking.” She rose and stretched her shoulders. “Go grab the keys and open up the back so we can get these to the church on time.”

  She crossed the space to pick up the first piece. Elon took her hand in a quiet connection, though they remained a foot apart. “Aisanna.”

  She lacked the strength to protest when he closed the distance, his palms gentle on her shoulders as he drew them closer until their chests touched.

  “This does not equal grabbing the keys, Elon.” Her words were quiet.

  He tilted his head to the side, the dark blue of his eyes catching the light and glinting with anticipation. “I’m sorry.” He kept silent then, as he brought his mouth down to hers. The touch of his lips was soft and he sank into her. Drifted beneath the waves and let himself go on a tide of feeling.

  It was difficult to speak. To think rationally when emotions she wasn’t ready to handle churned inside of her. She resisted at first, hanging back from the contact though he persisted. Eventually, she moved closer, let him glide his tongue along the silky lines of her mouth. The bare parts of her skin heated and it surprised her when her lips curved up into an affectionate smile.

  A thousand impressions assaulted her. The drugging perfume of her flowers, the slightly sweaty musk of Elon’s skin, how delicious he felt next to her. She reacted to the softness of his lips against hers and the feel of his hands when they moved up her back to tangle in her hair.

  He remained patient with her, keeping the contact light without pushing too far. There were flashes of hunger, brief moments where she swore she heard the sparks pop in the air between them. Though he held her gently—afraid to bruise—he kept his arms firm.

  He drew the taste of her into his blood and his memory. Her unique flavor. There was more to her than he’d first thought, something electric sizzling through his nerves and frying his senses. His arms tightened around her until her lean, slender body molded against his. Elon felt his heart kick into high gear. It galloped. It raced.

  H
er name slipped out from his lips once, when she broke free with an uneven breath. Her eyes were dark and huge. Indecipherable. Elon waited for her to berate him, knowing it was worth it for one taste of her.

  “What are you waiting for?” he taunted.

  With a curse, she moved to him. She locked her arms around his neck and took him for the ride of his life. Her mouth was heated, light. Magic. She pushed him to the limits, and Elon knew whatever the risk—whatever the price—he wouldn’t change a thing.

  She nipped at his bottom lip before her tongue smoothed over the tiny ache. Then she changed the angle of the kiss, taking him deeper. Enticing him.

  He wasn’t sure who stepped back first. He only knew his fingers trembled when he let go of her. One wrong move, one misstep, and he could lose her.

  When Aisanna spoke, her voice was hoarse and a little unsteady. “Don’t do that again.”

  “Aisanna—”

  She shook her head and jerked when his fingers trailed across her chin. “I can’t, Elon. Not right now. Please understand.”

  It took him a moment to answer. “I do.”

  Somehow it helped, seeing how undone she’d become. Knowing she felt the same as he. It proved something. Proved there was an inescapable draw between them. Something like he’d never encountered before.

  The rhythm of the falling ice…the dark sweep of the sky…the flow of his breath over her skin… The interior of her shop felt like a kind of enchantment.

  She sighed, hating that their playful banter had to end on a sour note. Why did she constantly feel the need to push him away, even when desire shimmered between them and she wanted to dive back into his kiss. She wanted it more than anything.

  “Come on. We’re going to need extra time to get to the chapel.” She curled her fingers at her sides, opened them again. “I don’t want the weather to put us behind any more than we already are.”

  Elon shot her a jaunty salute and planted his feet, bending down to lift two boxes stacked on top of each other. “I’ll be careful driving, I promise,” he explained, noticing her unspoken unease.

  He turned away because it hurt to look at her. To see her standing there with shadows on her face, looking too pale. He wanted to touch her again now that he knew how she felt beneath his fingertips, against his body. Now that he knew how she tasted.

  There would be time for them, he thought. Time to turn her cheek back to him and make sure that, when she looked, there was more than lust there.

  “I don’t regret kissing you,” he muttered.

  “And I don’t want your regrets.”

  He brought the boxes closer to the back door, unsettled, before making sure she was prepared for the weather. “Get your coat on.”

  Her brows lifted. “You bossing me around?”

  “Do you have your coat? Your hat? How about mittens?”

  “Yes, yes, and yes. Get in the van and stop distracting me.”

  **

  He took his time driving, maneuvering more slowly than Astix had. The weight of the van made it difficult to take corners at any speed. They made it to the chapel with moments to spare. Although she was not much help setting up, Elon handled things smoothly. He looked dramatic, she considered, watching him. Angsty and moody. There was an almost frenzied energy about him. He took direction from not only her but also the bridal party with decorum and respect, and soon a grin split his face from ear to ear. Because of it, she indulged herself and sat back to survey his progress.

  Dealing with weddings did nothing to make her want one of her own. Despite her mother’s wishes—or the urgings from other women her age—Aisanna despised the entire antiquated concept. She enjoyed the show, the flash, the ceremony, and seeing everything come together at the end with flawless execution. She adored the way her flowers brightened up a room and made the occasion memorable.

  Anything beyond that? Not a chance. Weddings made her sick in the stomach, not the heart.

  However, seeing Elon there, surrounded by women in aquamarine tulle dresses twittering at his jokes, was almost enough to have her rethinking the concept. She could picture him standing in front of an altar, one she designed and executed herself, looking discerning and mouth-wateringly attractive in a suit. She would want an outdoor wedding, though. Somewhere they could feel the sun and the grass underfoot. Somewhere fitting for an earth elemental.

  No! What the hell was she thinking? She shook her head vehemently. Bad idea. Very bad idea. Especially considering the kiss in the shop. The delicious, gut-wrenching kiss that triggered a small explosion in her chest. She’d wanted to prove something to herself, she mused. Prove she could conquer the constant internal tug-of-war Elon Fayer inspired.

  He belonged there amongst the beauty. He laughed with the girls and made small talk as he worked with the table settings. His audience was charmed, Aisanna along with them.

  Once they finished staging the scene, he hustled her back to the van, concerned for her welfare. She caught the flash of jealousy on several bridesmaids’ faces and couldn’t help but feel privileged.

  “I know you told me not to worry, but it’s getting late and I can’t help it,” he said. He held his jacket over her head until she was situated. “I don’t want you out here once the roads begin to freeze.”

  She shrugged. “In any case, I imagine I’ve bossed you around enough for one day. It’s your turn.”

  “We’ll call it job security. I believe that was your term?” He hooked his hands in his pockets and sent her a roguish grin.

  “Um, yeah.”

  They went down the road slowly, with the wipers working double time. At last, he pulled up in front of her parents’ house.

  Aisanna stared up at the familiar façade of her home. She hated that he had to bring her here. The embarrassment she felt rose to choke her, though she had no choice in the matter. Elon took the circle drive like a professional and came to a stop directly in front of the entryway stoop.

  “Are you going to be okay?” he asked.

  Let it go, her mind warned. Let it go before you drag him down into something he has no business being a part of.

  It took her a moment to answer, dread rising to choke her. If it was her fate to battle, she couldn’t beat it. Couldn’t fight against it, not if she wanted to keep her family safe. “Yes. I should be.”

  “Do you want me to stay with you for a bit? To make sure you get settled?”

  She appreciated his concern. “I’ll be fine.” She shot him a grin designed to put him at ease. “Stop worrying.”

  “It’s part of my job.” He leaned in toward her, skimming a hand over her wet hair and pushing it away from her face. “You understand, don’t you?”

  It was hard to swallow the flicker of excitement burning low in her abdomen. When she raised her eyes to him, they felt gritty. “I’m not for you, Elon. Let me go.” She pressed a hand against his shoulder. Cold air whisked over her and she used her free hand to open the door.

  He stretched back. “Maybe you think so. But things are not complicated,” he told her lightly, although it cost him. “I’ll be here when you’re ready. There’s nothing casual about us.”

  The kicker? She believed him.

  Aisanna let the door close on his final words, her head filled with him, and watched him pull the van around the circle driveway. The street was deserted and quiet except for the steady plink of ice.

  God, he was a good-looking man, she was forced to admit. Funnier than she gave him credit for. Okay, maybe he pushed her a little farther than she liked. And maybe he got overly familiar with her.

  Maybe she liked him more for his tenacity.

  And he’s your employee. And younger than you. And he’s human. Don’t forget those minor details.

  No one was perfect. It wasn’t like she’d allow this tiny attraction to grow into anything bigger. Right?

  Aisanna pushed inside the house and pulled off her jacket, wincing when it dragged along her shoulders and the bruises still healing th
ere. She turned to glance in the hallway mirror.

  Blood rushed from her head to her feet. The swell of dizziness had her toppling over onto the banister. Black lettering flashed across her face like little cuts. Symbols she didn’t recognize. When she looked up to the mirror, someone else was looking at back at her. Not the pale-faced woman with blue and green and amber eyes. Neither was it the empty black eyes of The One Who Walks in Darkness.

  It was a woman with golden blond hair hanging in thick waves down to her waist. Heavy brows and a blistering smile. Behind her—behind Aisanna—there was a shadow. An abyss. Reaching out to both of them.

  Aisanna was too scared to move. She stared at the woman in the mirror as a voice echoed in her head.

  Come to me.

  It took effort not to jump out of her skin. “Leave me alone!” she shouted.

  Come. And know.

  The words on her forehead glowed and shifted, a strange paralysis keeping her locked in place. Aisanna screamed at the top of her lungs—or tried to. Before she had a chance to draw breath, she heard the hissing sound of something hot being pressed into her skin, something slashed across her chest and down her arm. She felt the searing heat of the brand on her flesh, saw the outline traced through the thin fabric of her shirt. Saw the blood flowing out of her.

  She sank to the floor in pain. Terrified of what she would find if she looked.

  CHAPTER 8

  “She got to you in the house,” Karsia said softly, reaching for fresh towels. “She got to you when we were all here and we didn’t hear you scream. At least they’re healing quickly.”

  Aisanna gritted her teeth and stood still while her sister mopped the blood from her arms. She could still see the woman in the mirror, the intimate connection between them despite the pain and blood.

  She’d never felt so close to the end as she had when the brand seared along her skin. Except maybe in dreams.

  “What happened?” Karsia asked.

  “If I knew, I wouldn’t have let it happen. So much for Astix’s damn piece of agate.” Aisanna tipped her head back and closed her eyes.