WindSwept Narrows: #14 Daphne Paddington

by Diroll-Nichols, Karen

  “En-route from Idaho,” Vlad answered, satisfied with the slight wince he saw cross Daphne’s features.

  Mariah glanced from one to the other with a soft chuckle. “There are times when being shot might not be a bad thing after all…”

  Daphne just sighed. She’d felt his hand on hers and blamed the headache for allowing her fingers to lock with his.

  “An ice pack?” Daphne asked softly. All she felt at her side were gentle little bits of pressure. “How many stitches?”

  “Barely three dozen…almost done…he grazed you but it’s deep enough to need closed,” Mariah told her, nodding to her assistant who brought out an ice pack, snapped it and slid it into the cloth sleeve before handing it to Daphne. “Headache?”

  “Yeah…pounding…that man…”

  “Daphne?” Eloise came through the drape, stepping closer. “Oh, Daph…”

  “Hey…I’m fine…are you okay?”

  “Why didn’t you stay inside?” Eloise sunk to the chair at her side.

  “Paddington stubbornness…” Daphne heard the snap of gloves being removed and felt her shirt lowered. “The ability to see around corners,” she said with a slightly sarcastic laugh.

  “The police are here, but they mostly want the photos for their case,” Eloise shook her head.

  “You’d have done the same…that’s what’s bothering you,” Daphne lifted the ice pack off one eye and smiled. “It’s okay…go home…we can finish the wiring tomorrow or next weekend.”

  “Why did you leave the safety of the house, Mrs. Mircea?” A low voice asked. “Officer Decker, ma’am.”

  “It’s Daphne Paddington…and I left because the man was unpredictable. He could have shot through the house…he could have shot at the people coming in from the main gate…he could have hurt someone. Even worse, he could still be roaming free. Inside the barn, he was contained more so than in the open. So I led him into the barn,” she shrugged, shoving her elbows behind her and leaning up, squinting at the bright lights.

  “You’re good to go, cousin,” Mariah told her, holding out her hand and pulling her slowly to sit upright. “Slow, Daphne…”

  “I’m never where my car is lately,” she mumbled, straightening her shoulders, lengthening her back and inhaling slowly.

  “I had one of my cousins take your car home,” Vlad said from her side. “Right now, I’m taking you home and you can sleep the rest of the weekend.”

  “It’s alright. I know you need to help your family,” Daphne slipped off the bed, feet carefully planted as she tested being vertical with a little frown. “Eloise can give me a lift home.”

  “Your cousin left with Morgan,” Vlad didn’t wait for permission, stepping forward and sliding his arm around her waist. “Dizzy?”

  “No…no, not really…a little tired, I think,” she admitted reluctantly. “She left?”

  “She went out speaking with the police and they all left. My brothers are in the process of dismantling the camp and relocating the family. Everything is under control, Daphne,” Vlad said carefully, leading them into the late afternoon rain falling over the area. “I was given a plate for my car to get through the gates.”

  Daphne groaned and it had nothing to do with pain. “You’re going to yell, aren’t you?”

  “Even I wouldn’t do that to you right now,” he said easily, unable to stop the half smile at her comment. “Do you feel you deserve to be yelled at?”

  “That’s perception based,” she said, not protesting when he lifted her to the seat of the SUV. “Right now I’m hungry and I’m tired and if you wanted or felt you needed to yell, I would understand.”

  “Generous of you,” was the low, sarcastic reply.

  “Just putting the right perspective on things,” she answered with a sigh.

  “I’m not sure our perspectives are on the same page, Daphne.”

  “No kidding…gee…coulda fooled me…before you hijacked me yesterday, you should have given that some thought, Vlad.”

  “Nice to see you’re more or less back to normal. So without the bond between our families, how would you have managed the property issue?” He asked casually, carefully guiding them into afternoon traffic.

  “I’m not sure. But I would have come up with something. I’m very good at plans,” she answered, laying her head back and putting the ice pack over her eyes. “A bond between our families? Give me a break.”

  “Too modern for the language?”

  “The only bond is the property. You and I are tools for that to have been made possible. Period. We have nothing in common and I told you, I don’t want to be married,” she said firmly, almost believing herself.

  “You asked once why I hadn’t married yet,” Vlad began casually. “It’s expected…I’m sure you’ve had grief from your family about being single,” he knew she was listening, deciding he liked the way her mouth bowed when she was deep in thought. “Pretending you’re not interested?”

  “Nonchalance…” She agreed. “My family does not give grief about being single. They’re good that way,” she said softly, letting her head rest against the window. “But I know they have a tendency to be concerned.”

  “My family is far from subtle and enjoy giving grief,” Vlad guided through the large wrought iron gates. “Daphne, which direction? This place is like a fortress.”

  “We’ve built into it through the generations. To the left…follow the wide road that skirts the house. I’m at the end…the place with the little dirt patch in front of it,” she pulled herself upright and opened her seat belt. “It was very nice of you to bring me home, Vlad. Thank you.”

  “You like growing things?”

  “I love gardening. If we had more available space…” She shrugged and slid to the ground, heading for the patio doors. She keyed in the entry code and slid the door open, a shadow entering behind her. “Why are you here?”

  “If I had asked you to dinner, Daphne, would you have gone with me?” Vlad closed the door, glancing around the very large space with an approving nod.

  “I…yes…yes, I would have accepted,” Daphne sat back on the sofa, one booted foot on her knee as she opened the laces before doing the other one. She was about to protest when he moved forward, large hands easily pulling them free and dropping them by the door. “Thank you.”

  “The headache’s bothering you,” he commented, leaning back comfortably in a chair facing her. “Why accept my invitation and not the man who’s been bothering you?”

  Daphne blinked at him as she slid sideways, curling on her good side and watching him. “Because he only saw body parts,” she whispered, never having put the creepy feelings into words. “Conversation wasn’t something I felt when I looked at him…or was looked at…it’s difficult to explain. A girl would understand.”

  “I’m not a girl, but I do understand. I have two brothers and two sisters,” Vlad told her.

  “I’ve seen your brothers…where are you sisters?”

  “Adriana is in nursing school at the university and rooms there. Felicity lives with her husband in another clan in Northern California.”

  “Your family…they’re very nice. Will they…are they upset that you didn’t marry into one of the clans?” Daphne wasn’t sure how to phrase it without sounding racist.

  “My mother is like you…”

  “Hmm…mouthy? Cute? Annoying…independent?” She pursed her lips, wanting to go on when he laughed, low and warm. It was a nice sound, she decided, a light sparkling over the edges of his eyes.

  “Probably a lot of those, thank the gods, only my father has to deal with them,” Vlad confided with a chuckle. “No…he met her when he was on leave with the Navy. She’s not from a clan.”

  “Your father was in the military?”

  “Our grandparents wanted all their children to get an education. To explore possibilities…it’s possible to be educated and still value family life,” he said quietly. “That similarity…that you are both not from a cla
n…was what I meant, Daphne.”

  “Aunt Zora told me the clans are slowly changing, at least in America,” she replied easily. “She used to talk about the…the hazards because they were behaving just as racist as the people who hated them. Keeping their children from exploring and learning and…and not so inbred. I don’t mean to offend you, Vlad.”

  “You don’t. What she told you is the truth. How could we expect to be treated better if we don’t treat ourselves better? It’s a slow process. I never wanted to marry because I never wanted to wish the half blood names upon kids.”

  “You had to listen to that,” she sighed tiredly. “I’m so sorry…I remember playing with all my cousins and creating our own world. A different one…a nice one…” Daphne pushed herself to sit up, tossing the melted ice bundle to the trash bin a few feet away. Both heads swerved when the tapping came on the front door, her head shaking when he simply rose and went to open the inner door.

  “Daphne…oh…Vlad…” Mariah looked from one to the other, her hand up with several six inch square sheets. “Shower shields…clean around it carefully and put this over before you shower.”

  “Thanks, Mariah,” Daphne said with a half smile in the dimming after noon light.

  “I’d ask if you’re okay, but I have a feeling you’d lie to me.”

  “A headache still…I was about to go in search of something and to shower and change clothes. So you’re timing is great,” Daphne stood up and moved to take the plastic sheets from Vlad’s fingers. “I’m okay…honest. See you at breakfast.”

  “If you need anything…call me,” Mariah said firmly, accepting the nod and turning to leave.

  “I’d ask if you plan on staying, but that seems like I’m setting myself up for something I’m not up to handling right now,” Daphne said quietly leaving him standing in the large room.

  Vlad went around the room, making sure doors were locked and lights turned up a bit. He’d been self sufficient for a long enough time to know how to cook and her kitchen was equipped, both with food and utensils.

  Chapter Eight

  Daphne stared at the stained tee shirt, dipping it into the cold water in the sink and letting it soak while she stood for a long time beneath the hot stinging spray. She was working the comb through her hair when the smell began to bite into her stomach and it dawned on her she’d managed to miss lunch.

  Vlad looked up from the glass of juice between his hands, the first words into his mind were fresh and natural. Like she belonged in the middle of a meadow or the huge farm. The blond hair was wet, her hands working a wide comb through the long mass. The tee shirt she wore stopped in the middle of her thighs, a pair of dark leggings beneath and her toes bare.

  “What’re you doing in my kitchen?” Daphne returned his stare. She was still working on what it was about him that disturbed her normally calm senses.

  “Cooking? Food might help the headache. I missed lunch and I’m guessing you did, too,” Vlad gestured to the juice he’d poured on the other side of the high breakfast bar. “You’ve got a nice place here. I figured you wouldn’t have it in the kitchen if you didn’t eat it.”

  “I am hungry,” she admitted slowly, arms up and hands busily braiding the long hair, wrapping a band around the end and tossing the comb to the sofa. “Is cooking your way of avoiding being asked to leave?”

  “I figured we’re on a date…only I’m doing the cooking instead of some restaurant,” Vlad returned, his tone just as snappy as hers.

  “A date.”

  “It’s one of those things couples go on…conversation…finding out how much you both hate liver? That kind of thing,” Vlad went to the stove and checked the skillet meal he’d found in the freezer. He divided it into two and presented the plates, offering her a fork. “More juice?”

  “I…ice water, please,” she answered when she was sure her voice worked. “I don’t like liver,” she admitted, peeking through her lashes at his deep laughter. A date, she thought.

  “How’s the head?” After several minutes of silence.

  “Thumping,” she shrugged, taking a bite of the pasta and vegetable mix. “Thank you for making this…”

  Vlad watched the way she ate, the look in her eyes told him she was deep in thought for ten quiet minutes. “Care to share the thoughts?”

  “You. The farm. My upset plans…too many things to list,” she said with a shrug, sliding down and carrying the plate to the sink, washing things and cleaning up the kitchen. “How’d you know I was thinking?”

  “I doubt you ever stop thinking,” he answered without thinking, following her into the large living area and leaning back in the recliner. “I watched how you reacted when Mina was lifted out of the day care area…shoes flying and hands tucking up your skirts as you ran. You appeared to have it all carefully gauged and you would have run him down.”

  “We’re requesting a six foot fence around the outer area,” she said quietly, leaning into the corner of the sofa, her legs curled beneath her and head resting on the wide cushioned arm. “It’s not something we thought about…for every good thing out there, someone will find a way to make it bad.”

  “Why did you run last night, Daphne?” Vlad met the wide eyes that came up instantly in the dimly lit room. “Did you believe I wouldn’t notice? Or that I wouldn’t bring it up?”

  “I did what you asked…what…what was required to keep honor with the promise I made,” she said quietly.

  “Are you afraid of me, Daphne?”

  “No…no, you’ve never shown me a reason,” she replied honestly.

  “Did it occur to you that I was getting even for the expecting line you gave the justice?” He laughed at her expression. “I see…is that why you ran?”

  “I came home,” she said clearly. “I did not run from anything.”

  “Then a good night kiss wouldn’t bother you,” he commented casually, sliding to the edge of the large chair.

  “Are you leaving?” Daphne mentally slapped herself for sounding anxious.

  “You work too hard at being tough, Daphne,” he said softly. He moved slowly, watching her slide to the back of the sofa when he sat at her side. “I called the police while you were showering. They swear he will be there until he comes before the judge for trial.”

  She was barely breathing, her eyes closed and sigh thankful. Daphne felt his palm at the side of her face, his finger cool as they brushed loose hair from her face.

  “I spent so long…studying cause and effect,” she said quietly. “But try as I might, I can’t understand why a person would behave that way to the total destruction of his life…over a fixation with another person.”

  “I’m pretty sure it’s not something that can be understood. Too many variable in human brains and emotions,” Vlad said simply, the silk strands of her hair soft beneath his palm. “You still have a headache, don’t you, Daphne?”

  “I’m tired…just very tired…maybe it’s the headache…I don’t know,” she admitted with a sigh.

  “Then you need sleep,” Vlad stood up, faced her and lifted her from the sofa, heading down the wide hall where he guessed the bedroom was. “Do you want more pain killers? Or an ice pack?” He asked after setting her on the bed, curious that aside from the initial yelp, she offered no protest.

  “I can get the pills, but thank you,” Daphne left the bed and went into the bathroom, swallowing several more of the relievers with a sigh and a yawn. There was a frown creasing her lips and pale brows narrowed when she returned. “You look comfortable,” she said carefully.

  “It’s a good bed,” he answered easily, flipping the thick collection of blankets open for her to slide into. “I’m wearing clothes. I will keep my hands to myself, word of honor. My aunt told me you’ve been having nightmares,” he finished softly.

  Daphne walked slowly to the opposite side of the bed, leaning against the window seat to slide the leggings down her legs and setting them on the bench, aware he watched her the entire time.


  “Everyone has bad dreams,” she finally said, easing onto the large bed and pulling the thick blankets over her with a long sigh. “She shouldn’t have told you that.”

  “She worries about you,” he answered quietly. “I think she believes in a previous life you were a gypsy princess, probably complete with sword.” He caught sight of the smile that tilting her lips, pale lashes closed.

  “That’s a sweet thing to say,” she murmured, turned on her good side, facing him.

  ****

  Daphne stirred slowly. Seemed like a normal morning. Bleary eyes blinked at the large, glowing numbers on the clock. Her groan was audible.

  “Not even six yet…good…more sleep time…breakfast with family at eight-thirty…shower at eight…good schedule,” she murmured sleepily, snuggling against a nicely warm…what? Very slowly her brain tried to put a name to what she was pressed against. It was definitely warm, she sighed tiredly, her leg moving and a small frown creasing her lips. It felt different. Jeans? She was in the process of stretching her body closer when the low painful groan broke free, memories of yesterday sweeping over her.

  “Family breakfast?” Came the sleepy, rough sounding request.

  “Family meals…Wednesday and Sunday at six and breakfast on Sundays at eight-thirty,” she replied drowsily, snuggling against the talking warmth. Very slowly it registered that the warmth was skin. And not her skin. “My shirt…”

  “I saw it sail past sometime after one,” he answered with a yawn, groaning loudly when the bed suddenly erupted, the blanket tugged as she scrambled to kneel on the side of the bed.

  “Oh god…what…you…” a fray of blond strands shook wildly around her face. “You can not be here,” she said firmly, closing her eyes and putting her palms on them.

  “Daphne…” Humor filled the low voice, dark eyes cruising over the slender, bare shoulders.

  “Oh my god…breakfast…” she moved to scramble and hold onto the blanket and found both feet caught in a different blanket until she fell forward with a loud whoosh of air from them both.