Her brows twisted up. She had no idea how much this all cost, but she was quite certain the necklace was the most expensive thing ever placed around her neck, and she was convinced the earrings had to be close behind. Not to mention the fact that she was probably wearing the most expensive piece of clothing she’d ever worn in her life.
Danielle was deeply moved, and couldn’t stop the tears this time. He had given her so much more than she’d given him. “But, this cost too much, I’m sure of it … Ethan I–”
She cut herself off because she didn’t know what to say anyway. He placed his hands on either side of her face and leaned in for another kiss but paused again, looking tortured. She knew he wanted to kiss her on the mouth, but couldn’t because of that darn red lipstick. She sympathized with his pain; she wanted the ambrosial kiss as much as he desired to give it. Ethan groaned in complaint and went for her neck this time. Danielle lifted her chin to give him more room. He kissed her tenderly on the hollow at the base of her throat, and she tried not to giggle.
But that kiss didn’t satisfy her, she wanted more, perhaps something more ... potent. Like— “Breathe on me.” she said.
He blinked at that. “What?”
If she couldn’t taste, then she wanted.... She grasped his shoulders and leaned closer. “Your breath, Ethan, if I can’t have a kiss then I want your breath.”
Understanding rounded his eyes, but it seemed he liked the idea because with his gaze fixed on her parted painted lips, he drew close enough to almost touch her, and then he blew. Closing her eyes, she inhaled as his breath filled her lungs with his heady magic.
He could draw her into his essence so easily she’d actually forgotten about the necklace for a moment. Her eyes dropped to it as she fingered the pearl. “Ethan, this is worth much more than my silly painting,” she said shamefully. She’d been outdone.
“Absolutely not!” Danielle jumped and leaned back reflexively at his volume, even though she knew he wasn’t angry with her. “That painting is priceless! The necklace had a price on it, and it was minimal compared to how I value you or the painting. To me you are the rarest pearl in the world. Danielle, you cannot be replaced for any price.”
She still had a hard time seeing her own worth for what he seemed to think it was, and the tears returned. Her makeup would need to be redone. She dabbed at the moisture almost desperately, fighting to keep the droplets from falling onto the silk fabric.
“Oh forget it,” Ethan said, exasperated. He yanked a handkerchief from his pocket, blotted her tears away and then wiped the lipstick off. He pulled Danielle to his chest, almost roughly and brought his lips down onto hers. Between his hypnotizing eyes and his surrendering breath she was completely lost.
When he released her mouth he turned the power of his smoldering blue eyes onto hers. That familiarity never weakened or wavered—that’s why he feels this way—they knew each other before, before everything. Why was she having so much trouble remembering this?
“Thank you, you just lavish me with so much. I’m not used to being so spoiled.”
“Well, you’d better get used to it.”
She sighed. “Should I go fix my face now?”
“No, I wanted to practice dancing with you, and you need dinner. We’ll worry about your makeup right before the ball begins ... and I would like to be able to kiss you before the sun sets. I can’t do that with the red lipstick. It looked amazing on you, but I won’t be restrained like that again until it’s absolutely necessary.”
“I liked the breath thing though,” she confessed coyly.
“We’d better be careful with that one.”
She understood what he meant. It was on the edge of crossing a line she’d been reluctant to set. Somehow, taking his breath seemed almost more intimate than even kissing.
Ethan stood then, took her hand and urged her to standing as well. “Come to the dining room. I have dinner for you.”
“I-I’m not really hungry, and I don’t want to slime this dress.”
“Nonsense, you must eat. How will you last till midnight?”
“All right, but don’t feed me anything messy.”
“Well then, I should tell you. I did make pasta.”
She stopped walking. “I can’t eat marinara in silk!” She changed directions, heading for Sophia’s room.
Ethan snagged her arm. “Where are you going now?”
“I’m going to change. I can put the dress back on after I eat.”
“No, you’ll be fine.”
She sighed again. “If it’s messy, I’m eating in the chemise.”
“Well.” He gulped. “You can’t do that either.”
“Why not?” But she knew the answer as soon as she asked the question. His face told it all.
“Danielle, are you trying to tempt me to ‘update my principles’?” Ethan asked, looking pained.
“I tempt you like that, dressed like this?” Another stupid question, she already knew the answer to that too.
He groaned and ran his long fingers through his hair. “The–the sight of you in Sophia’s bathroom … all in white … so … I can’t get that out of my head, and I don’t want to. You make me want to throw my old-fashioned values out the window!” A frustrated hungry gaze landed on hers. “Draw a line. Please.”
He was bringing up their conversation in the garden. A smile fought to control her lips, and she let it. Deciding to let him off the hook, she said, “Just keep the same line of conduct you did before. I trust you.” Changing the subject she said, “Show me what’s for dinner, please.”
Replaced with amusement, the frustration fell away from his expression. He laughed softly, tucked her arm into the crook of his and continued on to the dining room. Once there, he seated her in the same chair as before, and she noticed that he’d gone to extra effort to make the room more romantic for her. In the center of the lace-covered table stood an ornate candelabra. All of the candles were lit, and next to that was a vase full of pink peonies from Beon’s garden. It was beautiful.
Ethan went to the kitchen and returned wearing an apron. It was like one you might see a male waiter wearing and it was perfectly clean, unlike Sophia’s.
He set a salad on the table in front of her while he laid a large cloth napkin across her lap. The action was much like they do in fine restaurants or on cruise ships.
She hesitated, then began eating the salad—carefully. She was still worried about the unprotected top of this dress. Salad dressing would destroy the silk. She secretly wanted another napkin to tuck into her top like a toddler.
Sighing with relief when she managed to make it through the salad without any mishaps, she nearly groaned when Ethan brought soup and bread out. Danielle took one look at that disaster waiting to happen and frowned. “Ethan, I appreciate—but, I mean, I can’t eat that in this dress.”
He nodded and went to remove the soup from the table. Danielle set her hand on his. “Wait, I’m sorry. Just let me go change, and—”
“No, it’s fine, we’ll skip the soup.”
She let him take the bowl this time, then said, “Please tell me you made penne pasta or bow ties.”
He turned to look at her. “I made angel hair.”
Darn it. Why did he have to go and make her favorite? She stood and ran from the room, looking back to see if he would stop her. It seemed he was going to let her go this time.
She made her way back to Sophia’s room, but Sophia wasn’t there. She needed help undoing the back of the dress, then thought of Nadia. She retraced her steps listening for voices in hopes of finding her room instead. About three doors down, she could hear the rumble of voices inside. She knocked, and the door, which hadn’t been shut completely, swung open partway, revealing a group of men she didn’t know, though one of them had come to Ethan’s room with Max after Celeste had attacked her. She smiled, feeling her cheeks heat up. “I’m sorry, I was looking for Nadia,” she managed.
The man who’d accompanied Max stood a
nd came toward her, extending a hand. “I’m Cedric.” Giving her fingers one firm shake, he turned to the others and said, “This is the girl Ethan’s been dating.”
“Are you okay?” One of them asked. He sounded French and his kind expression was twisted with worry.
“Yes, thank you, but—”
“You’re looking for Nadia,” said Cedric, smiling.
“Yeah,” she said.
“Try four doors down that way,” he said pointing.
Rushing in that direction, she tossed a “thanks” over her shoulder. It was like she’d just met a group of frat boys, but knew they were likely just Order members. And she wondered how many other vampires were here.
Four doors down, she knocked again and heard, “Come in,” called back. As she opened the door she saw Nadia and Max sitting on a bed. They both looked at her with confused expressions.
“Sorry.” She grinned. “Nadia, I need to get this dress off.”
“Why?” Nadia asked looking even more bewildered.
“Ethan made angel hair, but I can’t eat that dressed in silk.”
“What’s angel hair?”
“It’s just a type of pasta, but it’s kind of messy to eat.”
“Is it yummy?” Her green eyes rounded with curious eagerness.
“I like it.”
“Hm. All right then.” Nadia scooted from the bed. Her flowing green dress swished with her movement as she strode to Danielle, and began unfastening the many hooks on the back of the dress. “Cover your eyes, Max,” she said, glancing at him briefly.
“Yes, ma’am,” he said, his deep voice muffled beneath his huge hands.
“And I need a shirt to put over the chemise,” Danielle added bashfully.
“Why?” she asked again, her sable brows pulling together with more confusion.
“Well…” She motioned to the area of indecency.
Nadia broke out into laughter. “Oh, I get it.” She went to one of her drawers and pulled out what looked like an expensive white blouse.
“Do you want me eating pasta in that?” she asked, not wanting to mess up her nice top.
“It’s washable, don’t worry.”
“May I look now?” Max requested.
Danielle pulled the top on and tied it at the waist. “Yes, you can look.”
He dropped his hands and grinned as Nadia laid the dress on a chair and returned to his side.
“Thank you.” She turned to return to the dining room.
“Any time,” Nadia called after her.
Certainly Ethan heard her return, because he promptly strode from the kitchen with the main course in hand.
“’Kay. I’m ready to eat messy food now,” she said returning to her seat.
“What took so long?”
“I kind of got a little lost.”
He shrugged his shoulders, but she noticed how his gaze took in the fact that she wore a blouse over the revealing chemise as he replaced the napkin and set the dish in front of her. “Angel hair pasta and grilled chicken in a lemon cream sauce, madam,” he said it like he was some eloquent British waiter.
“Thank you,” she said lifting her fork and spoon to begin eating. “It smells delicious.” She twirled her fork into the bowl of her spoon, wrapping the noodles around the tines and then slid the bite into her mouth. It tasted as good at it smelled, and she noticed that he didn’t overdo it with the portion sizes, for once.
Ethan hadn’t stayed to watch her eat, and she wondered about how he ran things in the kitchen compared to how Sophia did. When she’d finished the main dish, she snuck in to see.
He was in the process of cutting a slice of layered chocolate cake for her.
The kitchen was spotless. There were very few signs that he’d just prepared a four course meal. Ethan was a very tidy chef.
“Employees only, madam,” he said as he drizzled chocolate sauce—chef style—onto the slice of moist-looking cake.
“I just had to see you in action. You’re very neat.”
“Ready for afters … or rather dessert?” he translated. He really didn’t give her a choice in the matter as he pressed on the small of her back, guiding her to the table.
Ethan sat down next to her this time.
She took her time savoring every single bite of the luscious cake. She had originally feared that it may be too rich, but it wasn’t. “That is the best chocolate cake I’ve ever had,” she said after finishing the last bite.
“Would you like seconds?”
“Thank you, but no, I shouldn’t over do it.”
“If you’re satisfied, then let’s continue with our practice.” He took her hand.
She looked at him curiously when he led her toward the bedrooms rather than the ballroom. “Where are we going?”
“You do need to go put that dress back on. Quite frankly, I can’t dance with you dressed in your undergarments.”
“What?”
“You’re just really making it difficult for me to live up to my sorely outdated standards.”
“But you’ll be okay if I’m in the dress?” she asked hopefully.
A secret smile overtook his mouth and she suspected he thought the dress was just as tempting, but instead he said, “I remember when women wore this under their gowns, so for me, it’s like having you walk around in your knickers. You may be corrupting me, Danielle, just by your very presence.”
“Well then what do you want me to do?” She didn’t want him to feel “corrupted” by her.
“Nothing, don’t change a thing, except get dressed.”
“But—”
“Go get dressed, love. I’ll be waiting in the ballroom.”
“Um, all right. Thanks for dinner. Everything was perfect.”
“You’re welcome,” he said when she hugged him, then ran back to Nadia’s room and knocked. Nadia called out for her to enter again. As she opened the door, she wondered what she would find. Danielle had a suspicion that Nadia and Max were more than just “friends.”
Max was still there, but they were only lounging casually and talking it seemed.
Nadia helped Danielle back into the dress. She checked her face in the mirror, touched up with some powder at Nadia’s vanity, but didn’t bother with lipstick yet, she then went looking for Ethan. She found him in the ballroom with music already playing. The song was very romantic, she noticed as a male singer crooned out a string of loving words.
“Do I look acceptable now?”
“Yes, you look lovely.” He took her hand and led her to the center of the dance floor.
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yes, I’m sorry for earlier.”
“Is this really going to be okay tonight? Are you sure you’re okay with my being here?”
“Beon feels it could be risky to have you at this ball. He says I’ve grown arrogant in my old age.” He laughed. “He may be right, but I really believe we’ll be okay. I’ve already proven that I can spend large amounts of time in your presence and resist harming you, and the others know not to make eye contact with you. They can be trusted, I trust them. Besides, I feel we’ll be too busy dancing to get into any trouble,” he said, as he took her into his arms and began dancing to the touching melody.
She closed her eyes and pressed her cheek to his. It was wonderful to dance with him alone, and she could have skipped the ball altogether. Almost. However, it seemed his intention was not to practice the figure dances because they were dancing too close for that.
“I thought we were going to practice.”
“We’ve practiced enough,” he said dropping his mouth near the shell of her ear. He continued dancing with her like that until the next ballad began with a quicker tempo. And that’s when he spun her out twirling her away from him, and then pulled, twirling her back in. He finished by sweeping her into a low dip.
“Oh!” She hadn’t expected that move.
He lifted her upright with a low chuckle reverberating through his chest, and t
ouched his nose to hers. She wanted to kiss him, but held back. “That was fun.”
He smiled as his lips made their way to the ticklish space just below her ear. As usual, she giggled and struggled. He then worked his way up to her lips, taking them captive for several moments. And she was a willing prisoner.
Danielle was so happily imprisoned that she didn’t notice Max enter the room until he started the music up again. She tried to look, but Ethan wouldn’t permit it. He’d trapped her face with his hands and began relentlessly planting kisses over her entire face until Max’s booming voice rudely interrupted.
“May I cut in?” he requested boldly.
The last thing Danielle expected was for Ethan to say yes, but he did as he dropped his hold on her and stormed angrily from the room. She tried to follow, but was quickly pulled into Max’s custody.
“Max, let go, what are you doing?” she asked as she feebly attempted to gain freedom.
“I’m only dancing with you, sweetheart. Ethan gave his consent, did you not hear it?” He lifted her feet from the floor and began twirling her.
She closed her eyes. “Max, you’re making me sick! Cut it out … please.”
“Not a chance, it’s my turn to torture the mortal,” he announced with a deep guffaw.
After a few moments of reeling torment, Max stopped suddenly. “Uh-oh,” he mumbled and then set her feet on the floor.
Danielle couldn’t let go right away because the room was still lurching. She opened her eyes when she felt steady enough, then saw Ethan carrying a chair and … something else hiding behind it. Was that a sword?
He set the chair down, strode toward them and addressed Max with venom, “That’s it, Max! Now we duel!”
Ethan tossed a sword to Max, which he caught carelessly. She then realized Ethan was wearing the sword he’d worn in the painting. Ethan snatched Danielle about the waist and carried her to the chair. She noticed, with surprise, that he was smiling!
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