The Arrival (Children of the Morning Star Book 1)

by Kastie Pavlik

  A fox was slinking behind them, as if gathering its courage to approach her despite his presence.

  Paresh smiled. “It’s like they need to make up for lost time.”

  When they reached the car, he opened her door, and she asked, “You’re not a hunter, are you?”

  “No,” he said quickly, and tucked her safely into the car. He walked around to the driver’s side and grabbed the handle, but didn’t open the door. The forest had gone silent and there wasn’t an animal in sight.

  Subtle pressure crept along his cheekbones. Someone was there—someone strong enough to scare the animals in spite of Paresh’s essence.

  Eric peered over his sunglasses into the shadows. In a low whisper he ordered, “We need to talk.”

  Without acknowledgement, the presence vanished. In the distance crows cawed, woodpeckers drilled, and birds broke into summer song. As the chatter of life slowly resumed, Eric got into the car. Paresh asked if something was wrong. “I was just enjoying how the sunlight trickles through the leaves and disappears under the canopy.”

  “Oh, you’re right! It’s like the darkness gobbles it up, like a black hole.”

  As she stretched her neck forward to look through the windshield, his eyes settled briefly on her throat. Another long-hidden craving sparked that made him clamp down on his teeth. Forcing his gaze away, he started the car and drove down the lane. “I reserved the greenhouse at The Greenery. They specialize in vegetarian entrees. Will that be okay?”

  “The Greenery sounds perfect. How did you know that I’m a vegetarian?”

  “I read people well. I hope it doesn’t ruin your dinner, but I’ve already eaten. Unfortunately, I had a meeting before this and my client insisted on an early meal.” As he lied to her, he decided to reveal his identity after dinner. With Jonathan lurking in the shadows, he hated to leave her alone. She deserved to know the truth and he could not perform his sworn duty shrouded in lies.

  III

  When they arrived at the restaurant, an elegant stone and brick building with sunlight gilded windows and sweeping trees that arced overhead, he grabbed his jacket from the backseat and opened her door. She accepted his hand and stepped out, the heat of his palm flowing up her arm to nestle comfortably in her chest. His mere presence chased away all her troubled thoughts, making him the best kind of amnesia.

  So far, he had acted the perfect gentleman, bringing her a rose, keeping a close but appropriate distance, and opening her doors. But each gesture hinted at something more, and that made the butterflies in her belly tickle her ribs. A sigh fell from her lips as she recalled the way his breath had brushed her ear and his tightening arms had compelled her to lean against him and drift into another world—

  The fire in her chest flared. His hand had moved to the small of her back. She gnawed her lip to keep a bashful smile from spreading and stole a glance at him.

  At the cottage, he had strolled, relaxed and loose, yet here he stood tall, shoulders squared, chin up and jaw set, taking each step firmly heel to toe. His stance and tailored clothing, such as the matching black leather and shining silver of his belt and watch, and the way his perfectly creased trousers draped over his gleaming leather Oxfords, gave off a distinctly aristocratic air, and the dark lenses hiding his eyes added near ominous mystique.

  This was clearly a man approached only if invited.

  She suddenly felt very minuscule beside him. All this time, she had thought of Eric only as her dad’s partner, someone she had adored in childhood. Clearly, he was a powerful and wealthy man, evidenced in this moment with his son alone. Despite her new financial standing, her humble roots left her feeling beneath him.

  They were about to ascend the stairs to the entrance when she lurched forward, tripping on her hem and losing a sandal. Strong hands caught her and held her aloft long enough to prevent her bare foot from scraping the concrete.

  “Are you okay?” A flash of pale blue shot into her as he peered over his sunglasses and flattened his hand against her back.

  Her heart skipped a beat.

  “Y-yes,” she stuttered. Heat invaded her cheeks as she let out a timid laugh. “Y-you look very handsome, Darien.”

  One hand firmly against her back, he swept up her sandal and slipped it onto her foot. “My fair maiden,” he mumbled to himself with a smile and then straightened, winking over his sunglasses. “Handsome, huh? Molly gets all the credit. Just don’t tell her I didn’t wear my tie.”

  “My lips are sealed,” she said, zipping her finger and thumb across her mouth before quietly adding, “Thank you for catching me. And for dinner tonight.”

  “My pleasure on both accounts.”

  The intimate honesty in his voice whipped the butterflies into a frenzy, and the way his hidden eyes lingered on her plunged the butterflies into chaos. She was silently grateful when the restaurant door swung open and a woman with cocoa skin and a pale green dress greeted them.

  “Good evening Mr. Ravenscroft, Miss Hawthorne,” she said in an airy voice. “Sir, your reservation is prepared as requested.”

  “Thank you, Sarah. Please show Miss Hawthorne the way and I’ll be along in a moment.” Upon entering, he slid his hand from her back and veered left, removing his sunglasses and pulling a small white case from his jacket pocket.

  Sarah gestured toward the opposite direction. “Right this way, please, Miss.”

  She was whisked through the softly lit restaurant, and took in masculine dark woods and greens similar to the office’s, and feminine toile fabric in cream and faded crimson on the benches, chairs, and windows. Latticed boxes brimmed with low light plants atop five-foot walls of cozy, private booths. Exquisite woodwork and trim lined the bar, while exposed wooden beams in the ceiling added a rustic element that complimented the fabric.

  They stopped at a pair of heavy, wooden doors with peonies and butterflies carved into every inch. Sarah gave them a push and sunlight flooded the interior, inviting them into a glass encased room dominated by leafy plants, trees, and shrubs. An impressive retaining wall stood in the center, supporting a collection of lace leaf Japanese maples, the tallest sprouting nearly eight feet. Its deep burgundy limbs and leaves twisted gracefully over the feathery green foliage of the smaller varieties surrounding it. Smooth, pale pebbles, large rocks, and stone lanterns dotted the voids between, and a massive pond filled with brightly colored koi encircled the structure.

  The floor seemed wet, as though the pond had spilled over, but the surface was hard and dry. A glossy top coating, two inches thick, sat atop embedded clusters of pea pebbles and gave the illusion of a shallow riverbed. Narrow water channels snaked throughout the concrete and added real movement to enhance the effect.

  Clusters of raised plantings divided the remaining space into a maze of seating areas. Each bistro-style table had its own mosaic tiled inlay, topped with a bowl of aquamarine liquid and floating candles, and overhead, paper lanterns and strands of clear mini lights promised to transform the room once night fell.

  Sarah led her to the far corner where another deep red tree loomed overhead, elevated by the tall, crescent shaped retaining wall that nearly enveloped them. She pulled out a chair. “Here you are, Miss Hawthorne. May I get you something to drink?”

  “Water is fine. Thank you,” Paresh replied, gaping at the magnificence of the greenhouse and wondering how Darien had reserved it on such short notice.

  Sarah nodded and retreated, stopping briefly to push several buttons near the door. The room dimmed as shaded panels tilted over the glass ceiling. She stepped aside to let him pass when he entered, and then quietly closed the doors behind her to hide them from public view.

  “What do you think?” he asked, beaming proudly. He slipped his jacket over his chair before sitting. “It’s enchanting after dusk when the lanterns are lit and the candles are burning.”

  “It’s breathtaking. The trees, the pond, the fish... it’s all so beautiful.” She smiled. “The floor is interesting. I have to admi
t, I felt like I was walking on water...” Her voice trailed when she met his eyes and noticed they were darker than usual. “Is something wrong?”

  Leaning across the table, he shook his head and removed his glasses. “No, I have a medical condition that makes me sensitive to sunlight, mostly photophobia. I must wear sunglasses or specially coated contacts to filter any bright light. A similar condition affects my skin, requiring ultraviolet blocking cream for long-term sun exposure. I didn’t want to be rude and wear my sunglasses until sunset, so I put my contacts in when I excused myself.”

  “Have you been like this your whole life?” she asked, lost in his eyes. Though shaded, the crystalline blue was as clear as the water in the pond.

  “Not all of it, but most of it. Modern medicine is a godsend.” He returned her gaze with an intensity that nipped at her. “Does that sate your curiosity?” he asked, sliding his glasses back onto his nose.

  “Maybe,” she mused. “Well, there is something else... why didn’t Eric ever mention you?”

  He lowered his gaze to the floating candles. “That’s a sensitive subject. Can we revisit it later?”

  “I’m sorry,” she said, emphatically pressing her palm against her chest. “I shouldn’t have pried. I just thought I’d remember you.”

  “It’s all right. I’ll elaborate later,” he promised. With a wide smile, he sat back and swept his hand toward the pond. “So do you want one of those? The koi are really something. That big white one there leaps out of the water at night. Everyone loves him.”

  “He jumps out of the water?”

  “Like a dolphin.” He mimicked the motion with his hand. “It’s usually a sign of distress, but he just seems to enjoy it. Like a performance. The staff named him Kabuki.”

  Paresh laughed. “A fitting name! I bet he shimmers under moonlight.”

  “Hmm,” Eric paused in thought. “The diameter of the cottage’s clearing is about 600 yards. That’s plenty of room for an even larger pond. You could have dozens of koi to watch at your leisure. I can arrange a meeting with the designer for you.”

  “You know everyone don’t you?” she teased.

  Smiling wistfully, he said, “This was your father’s dedication to your mother. He never finalized the project, but the plans were drafted. I built this restaurant from his designs to honor both of them.” He contemplated the greenhouse. “I’d be more than happy to transfer ownership to you, if you’d like. It should be yours, after all.”

  The sudden appearance of a lump in her throat robbed her of words.

  “N-no...”

  “I didn’t mean to upset you,” he said softly, leaning forward and stroking her cheek with gentle fingers. “How about a lighter subject? How was your afternoon?”

  “Thank you,” she whispered, deflecting her gaze.

  He nudged her chin up with his thumb. The concentration in his eyes stole her breath. She thought he might kiss her.

  Instead, with a subtle sigh, he lowered his hand and sat back just as the doors swung open and Sarah entered with their drinks. Eric gave her a warm smile and moved the chalice of garnet fluid she had placed in front of him off to the side.

  The two shared polite conversation about the day’s business as Paresh’s water, along with a chilled bottle of chardonnay and a glass, were placed on the table. Sarah presented a menu and offered assistance when Paresh had trouble choosing an entrée.

  “I think I’ll go with the spinach lasagna with house salad and garlic bread,” Paresh finally decided.

  “Substitute toasted French bread, please,” he said to Sarah, meeting Paresh’s puzzled gaze with a wink.

  As Sarah made her exit with the modified order in hand, he smiled and poured Paresh a glass of chardonnay. “I have a strong aversion to garlic,” he explained. “I can’t stand the smell. Unfortunately, it’s very popular and hard to avoid, but at least it gives me an excuse for staying out of the kitchen.”

  “I’m learning all about you tonight,” she said, returning his smile. “Is there anything else I should know?” Having never tasted wine before, she took a careful sip. The cool, fruity liquid cascaded smoothly over her tongue and burned pleasurably as it slid down her throat. She followed the glass with her eyes as she set it back on the table, already wanting another taste.

  “Hmm, let’s see. I don’t want to thin my mystique,” he teased.

  “Don’t worry, there’s plenty to spare.” She laughed and reached for the wine again.

  Flashing a wide grin, he said, “Hmm, something you don’t know about me. Okay, here: these aren’t real.” He tipped his glasses up. “I have perfect vision. I just like the way they look and have worn them for so long that most people think I need them.”

  “They do look nice on you.” When she realized she was staring, she blushed. “Is there anything else?”

  “Of course. But we’ll save it for later,” he answered cryptically. “Now, tell me about your afternoon. I want to hear all about Sammy’s fashion sense.”

  “Well, it started off simple enough. I picked up my bags at the terminal and—oh!” she exclaimed, slapping her palms on the table. “I nearly forgot! One of my bags was missing and they asked if it could be delivered somewhere when it turns up. I told them to drop it by your office, but they didn’t recognize your name, so they may put it to your dad’s attention, instead.” She sipped her wine as he nodded in response.

  “Um, but other than that, I had a nice afternoon. I’m glad you asked Sammy to drive me around. He showed me the town and took me to a deli in the city where I treated him to lunch. It was the least I could do since he was taking such great care of me and keeping my mind off other things.” She took another sip.

  “You may want to slow down until you eat something,” he cautioned.

  With a shy smile, she set the glass down and ran her finger around the base. “Sammy asked where I wanted to go, but I had no idea. He told me that all his girls love the Plaza Shopping Center and Mall, so that’s where he took me.

  “He said he always waited in the car, which made me really nervous. I mean, until now I’ve never been on my own—Master Jon went with me everywhere and I always felt safe with him. So when I walked into the mall alone, I felt very exposed.”

  With a laugh, she finished off her wine and said, “Maybe it was childish, but I practically ran back to the car to beg for his company, but he was already on his way in to find me. It was such a relief. He really knew his way around and took me to the best stores.”

  “I can only imagine Sammy being dragged around the mall by you!” Eric laughed as he poured her another glass, giving her less this time. “I always thought he’d be happy to live in that car.”

  “Maybe so, but he seemed to enjoy himself. He’s nice. He must spoil his granddaughters. You wouldn’t believe how many pictures he had crammed into his wallet. They’re so adorable,” she said, eyeing the refilled goblet. She felt warm and relaxed for the first time in days, and it was only partly to do with the wine. Even though she wanted more of it, she heeded his warning and waited for her dinner to arrive.

  Soon thereafter, Sarah delivered her salad, entrée, and substituted bread. Eric politely waited until Paresh began eating to drink from his glass, and sipped slowly, attentively listening to her shopping adventures with his driver. They talked well into the night, but he revealed nothing further about himself.

  As the moon rose, Sarah cleared away the dishes, lit the candles, and turned on the lanterns. At Eric’s request, Sarah took his glass and returned it full of the same crimson fluid. As she closed the doors behind her, the only sound in the room was the gentle lapping of the pond. Though the white koi had not jumped, the intimate touches of lighting reflected in the water, appearing to shimmer and twinkle with the subtlest of ripples as the fish swam beneath the surface. Paresh enjoyed the sudden stillness, the magical feel—he had been right. The greenhouse was enchanting after dusk.

  Even with the food, the wine affected her strongly. She’d
consumed over half of the bottle. Heat simmered from her core and her fingers and cheeks were numb. She propped her elbows on the table and held her face in her hands, contented to watch him in silence. He sipped from his glass slowly, rolling the liquid along his tongue to savor every flavor, and returned her gaze. Her heart fluttered. She smiled and nervously looked away.

  He laughed. “I should have known you’ve never had wine before. It wasn’t my intention to get you drunk.”

  She giggled. “Well it wasn’t my intention to get drunk!”

  Quietly sobering, she offered a half smile. “But after a day like this...”

  Leaning forward, he folded his hands in front of his face. “How are you doing, really?”

  “I’m okay. I think.” She nodded with a shrug, not wanting to ruin the evening.

  He met her eyes over the rim of his glasses. “Tell me what’s on your mind.”

  Her resolve broke under his blue eyes and commanding voice.

  “I’m trying not to focus on the negative things, but that’s hard when I’m alone. I mean, the people who raised me were good to me and made me the person I am, I can’t ignore that. Maybe they didn’t know I was kidnapped or... maybe they did. I guess that makes the most sense since they were always with me, but even before that, I was never alone. Eric was always there, like a protector, and I always felt safe with him. I felt that way with Master Jon, too. I hope they actually cared about me, but I may never know.” She sighed, licking her lips as she stared at the ice melting in her water.

  He regarded her silently.

  “I don’t know... from the moment I stepped inside the cottage, I’ve been trapped in time,” she said at last. “That place hasn’t changed at all in ten years. I keep expecting to see my parents, but I know they’re dead. It feels like I’ve just lost them all over again.”

  Ice clinked as she sipped her water.

  “But with you, well, I guess, overall I’m fine, just... conflicted. I... I just don’t want to go home,” she confessed quietly, her pulse jumping. She focused on the floating candles, too nervous to look at him.