“Do you have a place to stay?”
“Of course. I wouldn’t presume . . .”
He failed to censor his growl of frustration.
Her eyes widened. “Is something wrong?”
“Oui. Yes.” He stopped and ran his fingers through his hair. “After what we have shared, I would want you to feel free to stay with me.” He glanced away, almost afraid of what he would see in her expression. “I would not pressure you for anything. You would be under no obligation to . . . to . . .”
“Make love to you?”
With a sharp intake of breath, he swung to face her. “Are you saying that is a possibility?”
“I hope so.” Her smile trembled. “I’ve missed you something awful.”
“Ah, Gwen.” He bracketed her face with his hands. “I have been going insane with missing you.”
“Then do you suppose you could kiss me hello?”
He let out his breath in a long sigh. “Certainement.” Slowly he lowered his mouth to hers as anticipation sang through his veins. What a sweet homecoming. Her lips opened under his, and he knew in that moment that he would make any sacrifice to be with her.
If she did not want to believe in dragons, so be it. If he had to find a way to make a living in Big Knob, Indiana, he would do that. All that he needed was here, with this woman.
She eased away from him, her breathing unsteady. “That was quite a greeting.”
“We get into the spirit of welcome here in France.” He dipped his head to continue where they had left off.
“Wait.”
“Why?” He nibbled at her lips, uninterested in the people passing them on the street. “I am making up for lost time.”
“I have something important to tell you.”
“I have something important to tell you, too.” He looked into her eyes. “I love you, Gwen.”
Her eyes glowed with happiness. “I love you, too, Marc. Desperately. But that’s not what I wanted to tell you.”
He stilled. “You are pregnant.” He searched her expression, hoping to find some joy there. Was that why she had come to Paris? Well, he would take it, especially because she had said she loved him. “That is wonderful. We will marry right away.”
“No, silly.” She laughed and pressed her finger against his lips. “I’m not pregnant. That would be a shame after Ambrose went to all that trouble to get us condoms.”
He wasn’t sure whether to be sad that she was not carrying his baby or happy that she had come to Paris just to see him. “I would not have minded if you were pregnant,” he said.
Her expression softened. “I wouldn’t have minded, either. But I’m not.” Her gaze searched his. “I came here to tell you that I believe in dragons.”
Now, there was a statement he did not hear every day. “You do?” He wondered if it could be this easy, that Gwen would suddenly open her eyes to the possibilities and he could have the relationship he wanted with her.
She nodded. “My friend Annie came home and it turns out she knew all about the dragon. There’s also a lake monster named Dee-Dee.”
Apparently it was just that easy, if the woman you loved had a trusted friend who would give her the solid truth. Marc felt like dancing a jig, but he did not want Gwen to think he placed too much importance on this revelation. “Is that so?” He did his best imitation of a bored intellectual. “How intriguing.”
She jabbed him in the ribs. “Don’t give me that. You can hardly wait to see that creature.”
“You are correct. I will clear my calendar so we may leave immediately.”
“No way!”
“Why not?”
“Because I want you to show me Paris. If we’re going to divide our time between Paris and Big Knob, I should know my way around.”
“What type of division are you considering?” He was tempted to pinch himself. She had been so convinced the magical experiences were a dream, but this felt like one to him.
“We’ll have to see how it would work with your teaching schedule, but if we could manage fifty-fifty, that would be perfect.”
He was already figuring it out. He could teach one semester and ask an assistant to help him with the second one. The Internet would be invaluable for communication while he was in Big Knob.
“The lake monster is having babies this spring,” Gwen said. “You might want to be there for that.”
His internal jig had expanded to include cartwheels and backflips. “I might, yes.” He had an inspiration. “A spring wedding would be nice.”
“Very nice.” She gazed up at him. “Are we going to stand here all afternoon, or should we get some lunch?”
“I have food at my apartment.” Slipping his arm around her waist, he guided her in the opposite direction from where they had been headed. “And my apartment is very close by.”
She matched her stride to his. “By the way, do you happen to have condoms in this apartment of yours?”
“I have the same box I brought to Big Knob and never used, but that is irrelevant.”
“It is?”
“Yes.” He leaned down and gave her a quick kiss. “Let us make you pregnant.”
“Marc! Think of what my neighbors will say back in Big Knob.”
He hugged her close. “I am thinking of that. And I want to give them something to talk about.”
Dorcas begged Ambrose to sit out the next dance. She’d worn her cute shoes and her feet hurt. But she didn’t mind her aching feet when she glanced over at the head table and noticed Marc and Gwen gazing into each others’ eyes.
Another successful wedding on the town square. And Gwen had confided yesterday that she was pregnant. Dorcas couldn’t wait to fuss over yet another baby. She would get to do that, assuming everything worked out as she hoped regarding the news she’d been guarding all day.
“I’d say this case is closed.” Ambrose handed Dorcas a flute of champagne. “Dee-Dee’s babies were born last week, and George continues to be dressed in gold. Our work here is done.”
“I suppose it is.” Dorcas nudged off her shoes under the table and sighed with relief. The moment had come for her to broach the subject closest to her heart. “Ambrose, are you aware of the unicorn problem?”
“I heard speculation that they might be added to the Magical Creatures Endangered Species list.”
“It’s gone beyond the speculation level. They’re on the list.” Dorcas rubbed one foot against the other to ease the ache. “Most of the known breeding pairs are getting on in years. Besides that, a male and female who are the optimum age for producing young are not matched up.”
“Why not?”
“The female’s in France near Versailles, and the male lives in the hills of Tennessee. That in itself wouldn’t be insurmountable, but the female has no interest in mating. She’s too busy enjoying her independence. And even if she were to consider it, she wouldn’t want an American unicorn who is . . . a little rough around the edges.”
“I see.” Ambrose gave her an assessing look. “And how is it that you know all this?”
“Cyril called this morning while you were at Click-or-Treat.” She couldn’t keep her secret another minute. “We’ve been so busy getting ready for the wedding that I wanted to save the news until the excitement died down.”
“Cyril’s forgiven us for screwing up the spell on his brother-in-law?”
“Way better.” Excitement fizzed through Dorcas’s veins. “The Wizarding Council is planning to honor us with an award for our work with George. They’re saying we’ve accomplished something of a miracle.”
“Really? That’s nice to hear.”
“Isn’t it? Not so long ago we were in disgrace, but now the Grand High Wizard is calling to tell us we’re about to be honored for our work.”
Ambrose beamed. “An awards ceremony would make for a great homecoming.”
Dorcas drew in a breath. Now came the tricky part. “That wasn’t all Cyril had to say. He has a proposition for us.”
/> “This has something to do with the unicorns, doesn’t it? I should have known. You don’t bring up a topic for no reason.”
“It makes sense for them to ask us to help. We’re respected relationship counselors, and by converting George to a True Guardian, we’ve created the perfect environment for those two unicorns in the Whispering Forest.”
Ambrose stared at her. “The unicorns would come here?”
“Yes. We’d need to go get them, but the male in Tennessee would be easy. As for the female, I’d love to visit Paris, wouldn’t you?”
“Dorcas, I—”
“Marc and Gwen could help us with the operation, and we could meet Josette. Just think of the glory if we could turn those unicorns into a loving couple.”
“I’m thinking of the work involved.”
She’d saved the clincher for last. “If we succeed, we will each be given a seat on the council.”
“We will?” Ambrose’s sat up straighter. “Wow, that’s huge. No members have been added in almost . . .”
“A hundred years. Can you turn down that opportunity?”
“I’ll admit I’m tempted. Those fuddy-duddies need new blood.”
“Absolutely.” Dorcas forgot all about her aching feet. Ambrose was weakening. She might get to stay, after all. “By the way, George is wondering if he’ll get a mate, now that he has his golden scales. Would you trust the job of finding his true love to anyone else?”
Ambrose groaned. “Dorcas, you are one persuasive witch.”
“Sexy, too.”
“I was just thinking that.” He waggled his eyebrows at her. “Do you suppose the reception’s wound down enough that we can go home?”
Dorcas evaluated the gathering. “Probably. Are we agreed, then? We’ll take on the unicorn project?”
“Ask me again when we’re naked.”
Dorcas smiled at him. “Don’t worry. I will.”
ONYX
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First Printing, March 2009
Copyright © Vicki Lewis Thompson, 2009
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Casual Hex Page 27
