Oberon Boxed Set (Books 1-3) Welcome to Oberon

by P. G. Forte

  Her father? Scout felt her eyes widen in surprise. “Oh, I don’t know, Adam. I’m sure he had his moments, but on the whole—” On the whole she’d always considered him a pretty lousy parent.

  “No, I’m serious,” Adam insisted. “He saved my life. My mother wasn’t much good at being a single parent. Maybe it was her, or maybe I was a rotten kid. Or maybe it was just that we never seemed to have enough money, I don’t know. My grandfather offered to support us, you know – but only if she sent me back to military school. Your father was the one who convinced her not to do that. And even after he and Mom were divorced, he continued to pay for all my schooling. I’ve never forgotten that. Or him.”

  “Military school?” Lucy sounded skeptical. “Wouldn’t you have been a little young for military school?”

  He shook his head, smiling sadly. “No, not for Saint George, I wasn’t. As far as I know it’s the only K through twelve, Catholic military boarding school in the state. Maybe the country. I don’t even know how my grandfather found out about it, but—”

  “K?” Lucy’s mouth dropped open. “K as in kindergarten? You’re talking about a military boarding school for five year olds? Jesus, who are the parents of these poor children? Are they insane?”

  “Possibly. Or just sadists like my grandfather. But never mind that. It’s too depressing and this is supposed to be a party, after all.” He smiled at Scout again. “So, kid, how about a dance?”

  “Oh. I don’t know, Adam.” Scout cast a quick glance at Nick. His face was expressionless, and she knew he wouldn’t say a word in opposition. But his entire frame was rigid with tension.

  An uneasy silence seemed to have descended on the entire table, and the situation wasn’t improved when Adam, his eyes still sporting that same strange gleam, leaned towards across her to ask, “What about it, Nick? You’ll let your wife dance with me, won’t you?”

  “I don’t ‘let’ Scout do anything.” Nick’s eyes glittered just as coldly. “She does whatever she wants.”

  “Yes, she does. Thank you.” Scout found herself caught between amusement, exasperation and a growing curiosity. Adam was deliberately baiting Nick, but for the life of her, she couldn’t understand why. “And she generally speaks for herself, as well.” She smiled steadily at her husband until, grudgingly, his expression grew a shade less grim.

  Satisfied, she turned to Adam and shook her head. “I don’t think so, Adam. Not tonight, anyway. Why don’t you ask me again sometime when I’m not quite so pregnant?”

  “Aw, come on, kid. One little dance won’t hurt anything, will it?”

  “Why don’t you ask Siobhan to dance?” Lucy suggested, smiling a little too sweetly at Adam. “That would be molto affrontare, no?”

  For one startled moment, no one said a word. Everyone turned to stare at Lucy. Everyone except for Dan, who, his face hidden behind his hand, was shaking with silent laughter. Lucy ignored her husband as she gazed back at the rest of them with perfect composure.

  Adam, the glow gone from his eyes and his face a bright red, turned apologetically to Siobhan. “Yes, well, if it doesn’t sound too left-handed at this point, I really would love to, you know,” he murmured humbly.

  Siobhan said nothing for the space of several seconds. Her lips quirked for an instant, and then she smiled, graciously. “Yes. Thank you, Adam. I’d like that as well.”

  * * * *

  “What are you so worried about?” Sam murmured in Marsha’s ear, a few minutes later, after they’d followed Adam and Siobhan onto the dance floor. “Your sister can take care of herself, you know.”

  “Maybe,” Marsha replied, uncertainly. Maybe usually she could. But something was up with Siobhan tonight. She’d never seen her sister in this fey a mood before. There was a kind of recklessness about her. A sense of impending danger, almost. But maybe she was just imagining things. She was having a little trouble keeping her wits about her, after all.

  It was always the same with big gatherings like this, Marsha reflected sadly. There were just too many people. Everyone’s emotions ran way too high and the effort to stay detached from all the drama made her head spin. A torrent of images and emotions rushed through her – along with what sounded like a thousand voices, all chattering at once.

  She couldn’t remember why she’d ever let Sam talk her into coming. But then she glanced at his face and she knew exactly why. He was in his element here. There was no grim edge marring his smile tonight and his eyes gleamed with more enjoyment than they’d held in... months. But that thought was too depressing to contemplate for very long. She glanced away again.

  “Will you relax?” Sam’s breath felt warm on her cheek. “It’s just a dance, you know. It doesn’t mean anything.”

  It took Marsha a moment to realize he was speaking about Adam and Siobhan. “I know,” she said with a sigh. She closed her eyes to enjoy the feel of his arms around her. Just a dance? What was that supposed to mean? Right now, dancing seemed as dangerous an activity as any she could imagine. She rested her head against Sam’s shoulder and let the music wash through her; almost laughing as she felt the purring contentment that radiated from his mind. Just a dance, indeed! The old fraud. Maybe if they went to enough events like this one, she could find a way to keep him here forever.

  But she wouldn’t think about that now. Deliberately, Marsha forced her mind to focus on something else. Like the anger she should be feeling towards Lucy. She knew her friend had no scruples when it came to protecting her family, but she had some familial concerns of her own here. Had it really been necessary for Lucy to throw her sister to the wolves?

  She was pretty sure that the wolf was the proper imagery, too. Lupa e Cervo. She considered the Winery’s name again. Wolf and Stag. That couldn’t be a coincidence, could it? Two animals who were so often used to symbolize the opposing powers of Darkness and Light, Winter and Summer, Moon Goddess and Sun God?

  It was all very mysterious, and although she didn’t really get the feeling that Adam was the source of the danger she was sensing tonight, at the same time, there was something not quite right there. She turned her head to watch as Adam and Siobhan danced by. “It was kind of weird the way he recognized you. Didn’t you think so, Sam?”

  A frown flickered briefly across his face. “Who are we talking about?”

  “Adam Sasso. Remember? He said he’d heard of you?”

  “Oh, that.” Sam shrugged. “Not weird, really. It happens.”

  Reality hit her then, with the force of an iceberg. She kept her eyes glued on her sister, afraid that if she didn’t she might look at Sam and give herself away.

  It happens? Oh, right. Every day it happened! Every day wealthy, influential, highly visible men like Sam Sterling left their sophisticated, fast paced, urban life-styles for no other reason than to take up with ordinary single mothers like herself.

  Jasmine was right, she thought despairingly. She must have been out of her mind thinking this could last. No matter how many fancy dinners they attended.

  “You seem awfully interested in the man all of a sudden,” Sam commented.

  “I’m just not sure he would be a good choice for Siobhan.”

  He stared at her in surprise. “Marsha, don’t you think your concern is a little premature? They’ve only just met.”

  She felt herself blush. “Oh, I know. It’s just...”

  “Is this a psychic thing?” His eyes narrowed and she could once again feel a wariness within him.

  She sighed. “I don’t know. I suppose it could be.” She thought about that as they danced, relieved to be thinking about anything else. There was something wrong with the picture she was getting tonight, although she couldn’t say what. It just felt... distorted, somehow. “I suppose it’s just... well, he seems very charming doesn’t he? Almost too good to be true, in fact.”

  Sam didn’t answer for a moment. When he did, his voice held an unexpected hint of humor. “I really wouldn’t know about that, angel. He’s not exactly
my type.”

  She laughed and felt some of the worry dissolve. “No, I guess he wouldn’t be. He sure doesn’t seem to be Nick’s type either.”

  “No,” Sam agreed, his eyes straying past her for a moment. “And I doubt Ryan’s gonna find him all that fascinating either, when he gets back. Do you suppose he was included in that invitation to this dinner next summer, by the way?”

  “I don’t know, but six months is an awfully long time.” Marsha shook her head. “Anything could happen between now and then.”

  Anything at all...

  Six months ago she hadn’t even known Sam existed. She was afraid to imagine what another six months would bring. And yet... she’d been so sure once, they had a future together. One that would stretch out for years and years. She was sure of nothing anymore. She could sense the doubt and the restlessness growing within him. She had no idea where it had come from, or what it might portend, but she had no plans to fight it.

  She’d learned a long time ago there was no holding onto someone who didn’t want to be held. That was one mistake she would never repeat.

  She sighed, glancing back at the table, where Lucy scowled impatiently at a complacent Dan. She felt an odd surge of awareness pass through her. If this was a premonition, it was for nothing good.

  “What’s wrong now?” Sam asked.

  She shook her head. “Oh, nothing. It’s just that I wonder if Dan’s not taking Lucy too much for granted these days.

  “Why’s that?” Sam looked at her in surprise. “Because he didn’t fly into a jealous rage tonight?”

  “No, that’s not what I mean.” She wasn’t exactly sure what she did mean, actually. She couldn’t really put her finger on it. There’d been something a little bit off about Dan’s behavior lately. She felt a suffocating weariness envelop her as she studied the group seated at the table. She felt tired and unaccountably sad, for all of them, herself included.

  Desperately, she tried for a lighter tone. “So, what about you, Sam? How come you’re not jealous?”

  “No reason I should be, Doll.” His gray eyes gleamed as he smiled at her; so smugly she had to smile back.

  “And why is that?” she teased. Thrilling to the sudden, unexpected tingles of energy in the air around them. She cocked her head to the side as she looked at him. “Are you that sure of yourself?”

  “That’s got nothing to do with it.” His smile seemed even brighter as he spun her suddenly around. “It just so happens, the guy’s not your type, either.”

  She thought about that as they danced. And just why shouldn’t Adam be her type? He was sophisticated, charming, good-looking and she’d bet anything he knew more about the Old Religion than he was letting on. More than Sam knew, certainly. Did Sam think her too boring to attract someone like that? “What makes you think he’s not my type?” she asked softly.

  “Because.” Sam pulled her close, his gaze suddenly so intense she felt her cheeks begin to burn. “I’m your type. And, believe me, angel, if you think you’re gonna find that easy to forget, you couldn’t be more wrong.”

  “Maybe,” she whispered, struggling to recapture the light, bantering tone they’d been using, and failing miserably. She couldn’t help but notice that, once again, he’d made no mention of his own emotions. Only hers. It had been months since he’d told her how he felt about her. Maybe because he no longer knew himself?

  “There’s no maybe about it,” he said. Still smiling, but with just a hint of grimness in his eyes. And though his words were sure, she could sense the underlying uncertainty as he asked, “Or is there?”

  “No,” she said, smiling just as brightly, looking him right in the eye as she lied. “No, Sam, of course there isn’t.”

  * * * *

  “Oh, come on, Dan.” Lucy glared at her husband. “Stop being so damn lazy. Get up and dance with me!”

  Scout snuggled a little closer to Nick and watched as Dan once again shook his head. “Not yet, Babe. I told you. I gotta pace myself.” He looked beyond her for a moment. “Maybe Nick’ll dance with you.”

  “Do you mind?” Nick murmured to Scout. “You don’t want to dance, do you?”

  She shook her head. “No, of course not. Go ahead.”

  I’m getting good at this, she thought, smiling wryly. She’d developed a positive talent lately, for saying no to all sorts of things she really wanted. No coffee, no wine, no cigarettes and now... no dancing.

  “C’mon, Luce,” Nick said to his cousin, as he got to his feet. “Let’s go show them how it’s done.”

  Scout sipped at her apple juice, feeling pleasantly virtuous as she watched them go. After a moment, Dan switched seats, moving to sit beside her, where he could get a better view of the dance floor.

  “So,” he said pleasantly. “What’s the real reason you’re not dancing tonight?”

  She looked at him in surprise, but before she could speak he shook his head. “And don’t give me any of this crap about your being too pregnant. You can’t kid a kidder, Scout.”

  “Just trying to avoid a little bloodshed, is all,” she admitted. “I don’t know if you saw Nick’s face when Adam suggested it, but he was not a happy camper.”

  “Nope, that’s true enough.” Dan nodded in agreement, his gaze still tracking his wife’s burgundy clad form as she moved across the floor. “Yeah, I kinda figured it might be something like that. Too bad.”

  Scout shrugged one shoulder. “Oh, I’ll live.” Then, remembering Lucy’s complaint the previous week, she added. “But uh, I guess after sixteen years, or so, this kind of thing’ll no longer happen, huh?”

  Dan shook his head, his eyes still trained on the dance floor. “Now don’t go pinning your hopes on that. Something tells me you’ll still be sitting out a lot of nights – even sixteen years from now – that is, unless you’ve overcome your squeamish aversion to bloodshed by then. Some things don’t change, Scout.” He sighed. “God, would you look at her. She’s really something, isn’t she?”

  “Yeah. She is. So how come you’re not out there with her? Come on, Dan,” she urged when he hesitated. “The real reason.”

  He chuckled. “Oh, that one, huh? Sure, that’s easy.” Smiling wickedly, he leaned close and whispered, “I like to watch.”

  Scout choked on her apple juice and Dan patted her back helpfully. A moment later he continued, “Ah, you know how it is. She’s been looking forward to this dinner for weeks. I want her to have a good time, you know? And, knowing me, after one or two dances, I’ll be dragging her home to bed. So—”

  “Oh, come on, Dan.” Scout frowned in disbelief. “You’re really gonna try and tell me you’d be that tired after just a couple of dances? Now who’s kidding?”

  “What?” He looked at her for a moment, his face puzzled. And then it cleared. His blue eyes danced as his smile turned even more dazzlingly wicked than before. “Oh. No, darlin’,” he said, very patiently. “You misunderstood. I said I’d want to take her to bed. I didn’t say a damn thing about either of us sleeping.”

  * * * *

  “I really had planned on asking you to dance, you know,” Adam said again, smiling at Siobhan sheepishly as he whirled her around the room. “It wasn’t just because your friend suggested it.”

  “I know.” Siobhan looked into his ruggedly handsome face, into the quiet, forest green of his eyes and returned his smile. If they had met in another time and place – or maybe in another lifetime – she could imagine herself falling for him. But it was too late for anything like that now.

  “Don’t worry about Lucy,” she told him. “I’ve known her ever since she was a little kid. That’s just the way she is sometimes. Besides, you’re covered, you know? You suggested this when we were on the phone last week.”

  He looked relieved. “I know I did. But all the same, I’m glad you’re so understanding. I would have hated to miss this.”

  “So would I,” Siobhan said, really meaning it. This was the most relaxed she’d felt all evening. The almo
st unbearable tension inside her had finally eased up a little. The heat was still there, simmering in her blood, but it was no longer a rolling boil. “Everything was wonderful tonight, by the way.” She smiled at him. “The food, the decorations, the music. You must be very pleased with how it’s all turned out.”

  “Yes.” He glanced around appraisingly, his eyes growing dark and thoughtful. “It was important that everything be just right tonight. Very important.”

  “It sounds like you take your work here seriously.”

  He looked surprised. “Yes, I do. But this winery isn’t just another business to me, you know. This is personal.”

  She was pondering an appropriate response when Ryan appeared at Adam’s shoulder. “Mind if I cut in?” he asked. His hair looked damp and his cheeks were ruddy, as though he’d just come in from outside. She took one look at his grim expression and her heart began to pound. He was going to be difficult.

  “So. What happened?” Ryan’s eyes held more than a hint of anger as he took her hand. “I thought you didn’t feel like dancing tonight?”

  For a moment she couldn’t speak. His hand was so warm. It practically throbbed with vitality. Or was it her own hand that was throbbing? Her boundaries were dissolving, she realized with a start of surprise. She was having real trouble telling where her hand ended and his began. And she had no idea how tightly she might be holding onto him. But what really frightened her was the insane desire that had suddenly taken hold of her, the desire to take his hand and place it on her breast.

  The last time she’d held his hand, it had been icy cold, almost lifeless. There was nothing cold about him tonight, other than the look in his eyes.

  “I didn’t say that.” She forced herself to answer him coolly, even as she felt the heat spread across her chest. Her heart was fluttering wildly, blood raced feverishly in her veins. She could not stop herself from imagining how it might feel if his hand were to slip inside the neckline of her dress, his fingertips lightly brushing against her skin, just as earlier she had watched them move across the tablecloth.