“He hit me and Jaxen more times than I could count. But when he hit you...and sent you to the hospital...” Ruby shook her head. “Your mama might look all highfalutin, but she is a force to be reckoned with. So are her brothers.”
“I don’t remember any of it.”
“You were only four. So cute and happy all the goddamn time. It got really annoying.” Ruby sipped her tea. “After Orwell hurt you, well, you were never quite as happy, or trusting. But you did love Jaxen. Until that day on the rock.”
Pregnant silence filled the room.
“Jaxen had too much of his father’s venom in his blood. No one was ever gonna save him, Tristan. Don’t blame yourself for not trying.”
“Honestly, Ruby. I don’t.”
“Well, what the hell is wrong with ya? You’ve been moping around for weeks.” She patted the lunch tray.
“I don’t want to talk about it.” Tristan lumbered out of the chair to take her dishes to the kitchen.
“Why did you send your mate back to Atlanta?”
“Not your business.” Tristan washed up the few lunch dishes.
“It is when you’re feeling so sorry for yourself that I can’t get my toilet fixed.”
Tristan dried his hands.
“Is she your true mate?”
“Durrances don’t find true mates.”
“Are you daft or something? Of course, we do. But we got a stubborn streak as wide as the Tennessee River. When you butt heads often enough with neither willing to budge, things get cracked.”
Tristan’s already knotted gut tightened, as did the band around his chest.
“If she is your true mate, you better make up with her, fast. Or you’ll end up miserable, just like the rest of us.”
Chapter 38
Soft instrumental music played through the overhead speakers throughout the art gallery. For all its lack of soothing effects, it could’ve been an off-key brass band.
Nel massaged her temples, but the achy headache wouldn’t relent. Neither would the nauseous churn in her stomach. Morning sickness was a lie, hers lasted all day.
She shook off the discomfort. Tonight marked a momentous event. Either a turning point or breaking point. Whichever it turned out to be, she was ready.
The gala was by invitation only. To move forward with her future, without blight, Nel had had an invitation sent to her estranged aunt and uncle. They had not contacted her in reply, nor did she expect them to attend, but at least the effort cleared her conscience.
Tristan had also received an invitation, along with everyone she knew in Walker’s Run, and it made Nel’s heart flutter to hear Brenna’s high-pitched squeal above the muted chatter. “Pen-pe!”
The little girl wiggled valiantly against her mother’s tight hold.
“Be still, Brenna,” Cassie warned in a motherly tone. “Remember, it isn’t polite to cause a ruckus in public.”
Brenna’s pigtails bobbed with a nod of her head.
Grace accompanied them, holding one of the twins against her chest, dressed adorably in an infant-sized tuxedo.
Nel’s heart soared to see friendly, familiar faces.
She walked confidently toward them, noticing several gentlemen’s admiring gazes.
A few months ago, Nel wouldn’t have dared to wear a clingy black evening dress or strappy silver heels. Nor would she have thought to be turning heads when she did.
One of the many turns her life had taken since meeting Tristan. Nel smoothed her hand over her stomach. Before long, her pregnancy would show.
“Pen-pe!” Brenna practically launched from her mother into Nel’s arms.
“I missed you, too, sweetie.” She hugged the child for as long as Brenna allowed, which was about ten seconds before she reared back.
“Good grief.” Cassie held out her hands for Brenna to return.
“Where’s Reina?” Nel asked.
“With Rafe. She’s a terror when she’s not with her daddy.”
“Rafe stayed with Brice. He’s got—” Cassie dropped her voice “—a man cold. Thinks he’s dying.”
“He’s all right, isn’t he?”
“Oh, yeah. Stuffy nose, sore throat. That’s all. Trust me, it’s just a cold. Nothing like the virus that went through the pack during the summer.”
Suzannah Durrance waltzed over. “Penelope. You must mingle. Patrons love meeting the artists.”
“Please excuse me.” She squeezed Grace’s and Cassie’s hands. “Don’t feel obligated to bid on anything. I’m just happy you’re both here.”
“Of course they’re obligated,” Suzannah said sharply. “That’s why we have showings, dear. To sell, sell, sell.”
Nel was fast learning to not like that part of the business. “But this is for charity, right?”
“Of course, dear. Come, come.”
Cassie gave her a thumbs-up. “We’ll find you later. Enjoy yourself.”
Suzannah spun Nel toward patron after patron. Names and faces became a blur, and as the evening whirred along, Nel’s anxiety heightened.
She constantly surveyed the crowd for Tristan’s broad shoulders and tawny head. Each time her search came up empty, the knots in her stomach tightened.
Since returning home, the only times Nel had seen Tristan was when he came to Atlanta for her prenatal appointments with a wolfan doctor.
The Walker’s Run pack in Maico, she’d learned, wasn’t the only pocket of Wahyas in the world. Atlanta had its own—the Peachtree pack, of which Suzannah was a member by birth. Tristan, by right of his mother’s bloodline, was also considered a member. So would Nel’s child. Of course, the same could be said of the Walker’s Run pack because of the blood ties to Tristan’s father.
Just like Walker’s Run, the members of the Peachtree pack were welcoming and kind. Nel appreciated the support of Tristan’s maternal pack, but she missed her Walker’s Run friends terribly; they’d become family. Most, including Gavin and Abigail Walker, had come tonight. The show of support from everyone was nearly overwhelming. Still, the one she searched for, the one she needed to see, was glaringly absent.
Tristan’s gala invitation was not meant as an ultimatum, yet in her spirit Nel knew if he missed this, it meant he didn’t care to be part of her life. When they’d met last week at the doctor’s office, he didn’t say anything about tonight’s event. But he usually didn’t say much anyway.
She used to be able to read his moods, hear his thoughts. Not so much anymore.
Sometimes, at night, she’d awake with a sense of him holding her and that feeling was what had kept loneliness at bay.
Until now.
Stress and disappointment turned her stomach. She excused herself from the elderly couple Suzannah had engaged and hurried to the restroom. Thankfully, the stalls were deserted. Afterward, she dampened a paper towel and patted her face. The queasiness had eased but the tightness in her stomach moved into her chest.
Though Nel’s heart hurt tremendously, Tristan had taught her that she was braver than she’d ever realized. She could go on. She would go on. And she would be happy.
He gave her that gift. For it, she would always love him.
Tucking away her melancholy, Nel rejoined the celebration.
“There you are.” Suzannah linked her arm with Nel’s. “Come with me. Gilbert is introducing the artists.” She escorted Nel through the crowd and stopped near a small podium engulfed in the spray of a spotlight.
Nel clapped for each artist introduced, relieved they only spoke a few words in greeting. Someone tapped her shoulder, but when she turned no one was close enough to have touched her. She caught a glimpse of a man in the shadows beyond where most people had gathered.
Her heart skipped, hoping just maybe...
She
turned for a better look. Tristan?
If someone had been there, they had walked away.
“Nel.” Suzannah shook Nel’s arm. “You’re on.”
The thunder of clapping filled the space and clanged in her head.
Gilbert took Nel’s hand and helped her up to the podium.
Cassie and Grace maneuvered to the front of the crowd and gave her encouraging smiles.
“I’m deeply grateful to everyone who came out tonight. And to Gilbert Michaud for including me in tonight’s gala. I never considered myself an artist. As a child, I painted to cope with the loss of my parents. As I grew older, I used painting as a way to endure life. But I recently met a man who taught me life isn’t meant to be endured. Life is about embracing every single moment with love and wonder. And it doesn’t matter if how we live is exciting and dangerous, or quiet and safe, or somewhere in between. All that matters is that we live.”
* * *
The strappy silver heels Nel had adored at the beginning of the night were now the object of her curses. Her arches burned, her toes showed signs of blisters, even her calves had cramped. She gave serious consideration to ripping them off and turning the bubbling water fountain into the world’s largest footbath.
“Nel?”
“Um.” She jerked her hand out of the water. “Gilbert, hi.”
“My dear, you are an absolute success tonight. All of your paintings had top bids.”
“That’s fantastic, Gilbert.” Forgetting her sore feet, Nel jumped up from her perch and gave the short, balding man a giant hug. “Thank you for all you’ve done.”
“It is your talent that made the sales, Nel. I simply provided the forum.” He hesitated. “There is one painting that you did not wish to sell.”
Some of the elation leaked from her spirit. “Yes. I’ll take it with me tonight.”
Gilbert pressed his fingertips together. “You see, there is a very interested buyer.”
“Absolutely not.” Nel had poured her heart and soul into that painting. She could never part with it.
“I tried to explain this, but the buyer insists and is offering an amount equal to all your bids tonight.”
“Seriously?” Nel sat hard on the tiled edge of the waterfall.
“A cashier’s check can be issued tonight, payable to you or tonight’s charity.”
“Wow.” That would be a substantial sum for the charity. She wouldn’t feel right about taking the money for herself.
“Shall I tell the buyer we have a sale?”
“I’m sorry, Gilbert.” The offer was tempting, but Nel’s heart simply would not allow her to part with it. “I can’t.”
“In the event you chose not to sell, the buyer asked simply to meet you.”
“No. I don’t want to be pressured to sell. My mind is set.”
“I believe the buyer is simply enamored, my dear.” Gilbert lifted her hand. “Surely you wouldn’t mind giving a quick and gracious greeting?”
“Only if I can take my shoes off. I doubt I could take one more step in them.”
“Of course.”
Nel slipped off the accursed, but beautiful, heels. Gilbert escorted her up the sprawling, spiral staircase and down the open corridor. He ushered her into his dimly lit, but spacious office with a gorgeous view of downtown.
“Please make yourself comfortable. The buyer will be with you shortly.” Gilbert was gone before Nel had a chance to ask him to stay.
She dropped her shoes on the settee and made her way to the painting Gilbert had taken from the gallery and placed on the lighted easel in his office.
The canvas of the man fly-fishing in the river with a wolf watching from the shadows of the forest was breathtakingly beautiful and even she believed it deserved to hang in a gallery.
Her fingers caressed the brushstrokes as lovingly as she had the man.
“Why can’t you sell it, Nel?” Tristan breathed against her hair.
She held her fist against her mouth to keep from crying out. Her heart, hurting for so long, felt as if it would break.
“Nel.” Her name was a ragged moan. “Tell me.”
“Because it’s you.” Nel resisted the urge to turn around. Afraid of what she might see in his gaze. “While I painted it, I thought of every single thing that I love about you. Your kindness. Steadfastness. Your strength, your agility. Your ability to make me laugh, how you helped me find courage. Your companionship. Your confidence. Your dedication.”
“Nel, please stop.” His hands settled gently on her hips. “I’m a coward.”
“Only in your eyes, Tristan. Never in mine.” Nel faced him.
Dressed in a tux and cleanly shaved, he took her breath away.
“I love you so much, Nel. It scares the shit out of me. But what scares me more is losing you.” He cupped her face, his thumbs caressing the apples of her cheeks. “I shouldn’t have pushed you away. So much happened in a short amount of time, I couldn’t accept that your feelings or mine were real. Especially after I learned I had forced a mate-claim on you. I’m so sorry, Nel, for taking away your choice.”
“You accidentally bit me, but everything that followed was my choice and with my full consent. And I loved every minute of it.” Sliding her arms beneath his jacket, she stepped into his warmth.
A ragged breath broke in his chest and he folded around her. “I’ve missed you.”
“Why didn’t you tell me how you felt when we were at any of the doctor appointments?”
“I was giving us time. If what we had wasn’t real, the distance would’ve lessened the pull between us. But I can’t bear it anymore, Nel.” He squeezed her ribs and buried his face in the curve of her neck. “I want you. I need you more than I have ever needed anyone. I love you and I’m never going to stop loving you.”
Her body sighed against his. “I’ve been waiting to hear you say those words.”
Tristan took a step back and knelt. “You wouldn’t consider my offer for the painting.” He withdrew a small blue-velvet case from his pocket. “Would you accept this, instead?” He opened the box. Inside was a large marquise diamond set in platinum.
“Tristan, it’s beautiful.”
“Penelope Nel sweet cheeks Buchanan, will you please be my mate for now and always?”
“Yes! Oh, yes!”
Tristan slipped the ring on her finger, kissed her knuckles and stood. Tears blurring her vision, Nel wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face in his shoulder. “I love you so much.”
“I love you, too,” he whispered against her hair.
Tristan gently rocked Nel until she was all cried out. He handed her the handkerchief from his pocket.
“What’s that?” She dabbed her eyes, looking at the white envelope sticking out of his pants pocket.
“My secret weapon. If my straight-out, on-the-knee proposal didn’t work, I planned to bribe you with tickets to Paris.”
Nel snatched the envelope. “These are for the honeymoon?”
“Unless you have another destination in mind.”
“Nope. This will do.”
“God, I’ve missed you.” Tristan’s mouth crushed her lips, possessively branding her with his taste until, breathless, he broke the kiss. “We need to get out of here, unless you want me to claim you again, right here in Gilbert’s office.”
“Let’s go home.” Nel hooked her arm around his.
Tristan brushed aside a long ribbon of hair that had fallen across her face. “I am home whenever I am with you.”
Smiling, Nel leaned into his warmth. Tristan had opened her to whole new world and she couldn’t wait to explore it, with him.
* * * * *
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CHARMED BY THE WOLF?
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AWAKENED BY THE WOLF
RESCUED BY THE WOLF
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One Night with the Valkyrie
by Jane Godman
Chapter 1
Adam Lyon had dodged many bullets in his life. Until now, they had always been of the conversational variety. For the first time ever, the fire and fury being unleashed around him was not in a boardroom...and it was not of his own making.
Charmed by the Wolf Page 25
