Cursed: Gowns & Crowns, Book 5

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Cursed: Gowns & Crowns, Book 5 Page 6

by Jennifer Chance


  “Thanks,” Edeena said absently. No longer apparently titillated by what she saw through the window, Edeena nevertheless frowned as she strode forward, peering at Wyndham even as he disentangled himself from an overenthusiastic blonde. “Who is that man, again? Wyndham something?”

  “Masters. Hotelier. Billionaire. Engaged, as it happens,” Vince said, also eyeing the window. Wyndham rebuffed another stunning brunette, turning instead to say something to the younger man. “I don’t know who the younger guy is.”

  “Engaged,” Edeena said, and once again, he got the sense that she wasn’t dismayed. Merely intrigued. Challenged, even.

  Vince’s own attention sharpened on Wyndham. He was an attractive enough man, and richer than God. He wasn’t a prince, of course—

  What the hell am I even thinking?

  Vince shook off the completely irrational surge of jealousy that rolled over him, then looked up to see Edeena eyeing him intently. “We can leave at will, right? You don’t have to . . .” she waved her hand at the room. “Check out or anything?”

  “Key is one use only. When we leave, I scan it, and it informs security and housekeeping that the room is no longer occupied. At that point, I can keep it as a souvenir, or toss it.”

  “Keep it, for now,” Edeena said thoughtfully. Her gaze shifted to the windows again. Now Wyndham was gone, but Janet remained holding court, sashaying around in her mini-dress and—yes, Edeena was right—positioning herself to best effect for the window. Edeena snorted, then turned back to him, pointing at the champagne. “And like Marguerite said, please bring that, would you? I think it’s time for a celebration.”

  Vince grabbed the bottle of champagne, not even trying to understand Edeena’s words as he exited the room behind her. She took the bottle from him as he rescanned the keycard, but instead of hoofing it down the long passageway, she moved more slowly, peering into every alcove.

  “You want to tell me what you’re looking for?”

  “Vantage point.”

  They moved out into the antechamber where the VIP suite guards were stationed, the wall of noise smiting them with a physical force. A few other partiers were now lingering in the area, And Edeena stopped abruptly as she scanned the heavily-fringed damask curtains.

  “This will do nicely I think. It’s been about five minutes since we left?”

  “Something like that.”

  “Good.” She turned into his body, her face tilted up with an expression of pure, doe-eyed expectation, the bottle of booze hanging limply from her hand. And instantly, Vince got it.

  “I suppose you are paying me a full retainer,” he said, taking the bottle from her. “I’ll hold onto this.”

  “That you so much for not making me explain.”

  Vince chuckled as he led Edeena more deeply into the shadows—not so far that she couldn’t be seen in her short minidress and dark tumble of hair, but far enough to give at least the impression of discretion. Appearances were important here, he knew. Then he wrapped both arms around her, holding up the distinctively labeled bottle of champagne, label out. No one passing by would be able to miss it.

  He looked down at Edeena, glad she’d chosen a location for this tableau that was at least was partially lit. She was absolutely stunning, her expression caught in a haze of desire that might be real or fake. He didn’t know, and honestly, he didn’t care which it was at the moment. Her lips were slightly parted, her eyelids dropped ever so much, and her color was high. As he pressed her against him, he could feel her heart beating wildly behind the soft swell of her breasts, and the necessity of their positioning left no question as to the state of his own arousal.

  He refused to apologize for it.

  “Ahhh.” Instead of shifting away, Edeena plunged right into the fire, pressing herself more firmly against his body, her right leg running up against his. She leaned back, and he didn’t wait for permission to nuzzle his mouth against her soft skin, his lips following the trail of skin from the tip of her delicate ear down the curve of her neck, inviting him to kiss, lick, explore his way along the long, slender column and into the sensitive hollow where her pulse thumped and hammered.

  Edeena drew in a harsh hiss, then she was clutching at him, her words an inarticulate question that brought his head up for only a moment before he found her mouth with his.

  This was something more than the kiss they’d shared briefly in the bright sunshine of the pool area—something more and something continued, he realized in an instant. Edeena’s mouth opened before his and she pressed herself against him almost hungrily, the movement threatening to make him loosen his grip on the champagne bottle and send it crashing to the floor.

  Instead, he gripped it more tightly—and gripped Edeena more tightly, tasting her mouth, sliding his tongue past the barrier of his lips to explore her wet heat, his body almost rigid with urgency.

  It was only the dimmest portion of his brain that registered the waft of perfume and rustle of silk that marked the passage of a second woman next to him—close but not too close—a woman who hesitated only slightly before pushing past the damask curtain. He hoped—no, prayed—that Edeena hadn’t noticed, but of course she did.

  She didn’t stop kissing him, though. Not for another long, delicious moment anyway.

  Then she pulled back, and he didn’t think he’d ever seen anyone more beautiful in his life.

  “Thank you,” she whispered, her eyes shining.

  Chapter Six

  Had it really been two weeks?

  Another gorgeous late summer day dawned bright and full of promise, and Edeena sat on the gracious back porch savoring the view. It was almost impossible to believe they’d been on the island for nearly fourteen days. One lazy afternoon flowed into the next, and time seemed to drift along.

  After the initial party at the Sea Witch had exposed them to more sound and noise than they’d experienced in a year in Garronia—and Janet Mulready had disappeared, never to bother them again, she hoped—the lives of Edeena and her sisters had quickly settled into a more sedate pace. Caroline had made it her goal to learn everything about the local farms in the area and was already beginning to meet some of the resident homeowners, as well as members of the community works foundation. She’d dragged Cindy all over the island with her, but maybe that wasn’t so much necessary anymore, Edeena mused, her eyes not quite focusing on the flowers fluttering softly in the breeze. Caroline knew the island well enough and was always home well before evening, preferring to stroll along the beachfront at Heron’s Point versus the more crowded public beaches lining the seaside edge of the island up past the Cypress Resort. She, at least, Edeena could stop worrying over.

  Marguerite was a different story, but in all truth, she was also proving to be less trouble than Edeena had feared she’d be. They’d even cut Rob’s hours to occasional drive-bys at the Cypress—and, of course, he was there to pick her up and drop her off.

  As promised by Count Matretti, Marguerite had been picked up by the Cypress Resort as an intern, working her way through the food service roles on site at the resort. She’d moved up quickly enough to a sit-down breakfast and coffee bar, then had set her cap for the lunch crowd. She’d never spoken again about Wyndham Masters, but Edeena had done the research anyway. It was too bad the man was engaged, but merely seeing Marguerite’s clear interest in him had done Edeena good. The idea that her sisters could potentially fall in love with their future husband was the real stuff of fairy tales to her. Fairy tales that she could help come true.

  Edeena smiled as her mind turned again to Vince Rallis. He’d shown up for duty the next day after the party, both of them acting as if they hadn’t made out in public the night before, but she hadn’t given him much reason to protect her from any further danger. He stopped by the house once a day to give her an update on her sisters, to ask after her, and to encourage her to do more than walk the beach at Heron’s Point, but Edeena had more than enough work to keep her busy in the house. She’d been r
eviewing the family’s financial statements—particularly her mother’s, to which she’d gained access through a private trust that Silas could not touch. No matter what Silas did, her sisters would be well cared for, and that was the greatest gift a mother could give her daughters. The greatest gift an older sister could give, too.

  Edeena had also confirmed an interesting fact about Heron’s Point. Though the house had always remained in her mother’s family, there had been several years where it had been occupied by the Saleris—from all accounts in the same typical high-handed way they’d been annoying their countrymen for generations. Apparently, the Saleri guests left rooms full of unwanted belongings behind with the Contoses when they’d returned to Garronia. Edeena suspected said ancient belongings remained stuffed in the attic, waiting to be reclaimed. She grimaced. She really should begin looking into listing the house, but they’d have to explore that attic, first.

  “Oh! There you are.” Cousin Prudence stepped out onto the porch with her own cup of tea, and Edeena looked up as she approached. Her cousin’s gaze lingered on Edeena’s untouched breakfast, but she said nothing as she fussed with getting herself arranged comfortably. “It’ll be a warm one, today,” Prudence said. “I thought the girls might enjoy going into town. Marguerite doesn’t appear to be working today.”

  “Oh! A visit to Charleston would be lovely for them,” Edeena nodded. “I’ve received yet another package from Garronia, and eventually, I’m going to have to look at them.” She sighed. “It’s the sixth one this week.”

  “I noticed that,” Prudence lifted her brows at her. “You don’t know what they are?”

  “No. I spoke with Silas via email yesterday and confirmed receipt, but I put him off, saying we’d been traveling the eastern seaboard. He wrote back entirely too cheerfully, however, saying there was no rush, that my birthday was still a week off.”

  She made a face as Prudence set her teacup carefully down on its saucer. “That sounds like a threat,” her cousin said.

  Edeena nodded. “I thought so, too. A very pleasant one, admittedly, but a threat all the same. So I need to know the girls will be away long enough that . . . you know, they don’t see whatever is in those packages.” She tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Maybe we can tell them we’re interviewing real estate agents and they should stay away all day. That will sound sufficiently boring, don’t you think?”

  Prudence sighed heavily. “Edeena, you know they would be more than happy to help you bear this burden. You don’t have to go through it alone. It seems like you’re all so much closer than that.”

  “Oh, I know,” Edeena said. She’d worked through this all in her own mind, already, preparing for the questions when they inevitably came. She didn’t expect them to come from Prudence, but now seemed as good a time as any to practice her responses. “But they were so much younger than I was when our mother passed away, and I got to enjoy her for those years when they didn’t really know enough to connect with her. Then she passed away and it seemed like everything I did, they had to do, too—the lessons, the exact same schools, the endless round of events we attended as Silas’s perfect children. Every memory of Mother he could, he gradually whittled away, until there was nothing in the house left of her. It was all his relatives, his family’s past, his family’s future. Even if I’d wanted to protect Caro and Marguerite from all of that, he wasn’t about to spare any of us from learning about the proud heritage of the Saleris and the responsibility that came with it.”

  She waved toward the lush back yard. “But this, I did for them, bringing them here to get away. And whatever’s in those packages, I can manage that, too. It can’t be so terrible as all that. It’s undoubtedly more dossiers on global royalty, probably with financial statements this time.”

  “Maybe . . .” Prudence said.

  “Definitely.”

  It was the work of a few hours to get the girls on their way to Charleston, both of them so intrigued by the idea of shopping that they willingly relinquished Edeena to the task of meeting with realtors. By the time she and Prudence gathered in the front parlor, Edeena was feeling almost hopeful. There were really only a handful of royal contenders, and the Saleri name and modest fortune had to be appealing to at least a couple of them. Surely she could get one on the hook long enough for her to figure out how to beat the Saleri curse some other way than through marriage. There had to be an out.

  Prudence handed her a large set of shears, almost comical considering the size of the first package. They’d decided to open the boxes in the order they’d arrived—the largest and most official looking one first.

  “Are you sure these enormous scissors are necessary?” laughed Edeena, but Prudence nodded.

  “There’s something in these boxes that has been weighing on you for days, if you haven’t been willing to open them,” she said. “It’s good to give that discovery the respect it deserves.”

  “Fair enough.”

  Edeena set the shears to the first box, cutting through the packing tape. Inside, there were files on the royal families outside of Garronia. She already knew this information, of course. Either way, seeing them made her expel a long breath of relief. “Well, fine,” she said, paging through the folders—even stopping on a candidate she hadn’t considered, before.

  “Who is Prince Ferdinand?” she asked, looking up at Prudence.

  “I . . . well, I’m sure I don’t know.”

  But Edeena was already paging through the file. “Ugh, he’s ten. Never mind.”

  At the bottom of the first box was a summary sheet of the contents, and she checked the files against them. “Well, at least this one isn’t a surprise but . . .” she frowned at the other half-dozen packages. They were all small, barely enough to hold more than a dozen folders each, but—why were there so many of them? And if she’d already gone through all the likely candidates after the first box, including the ten-year-old, then what could these new deliveries signify?

  She picked up the next package, this one a thickly padded envelope, and tore the flap wide. A single letter in an envelope peeked out, and she pulled it free with a frown.

  “That doesn’t look like Silas’s crest,” Prudence said, peering over.

  “It’s not,” Edeena agreed. She frowned at the envelope. “It’s from the family lawyer. I can’t imagine . . .”

  She took Prudence’s proffered letter opener and slit the creamy envelope open, then slid out a rich sheet of stationery atop a thick sheaf of copied pages. She quickly scanned the cover letter . . . and froze.

  “Oh, no,” she said, lifting her gaze to Prudence’s startled face. “Oh, no, no, no.”

  “What? What is it?”

  But Edeena dropped her hands to her lap, staring out sightlessly as the magnolia trees waved. “This changes everything.”

  Vince barely held his temper in check as he carried the couch around another set of stairs. “Are you serious?” he growled. “A third floor walk-up and this is the couch you wanted?”

  “Almost there!” His brother’s voice sounded nearly desperate, and Vince put his shoulders into the couch, heaving it higher to give his brother a break in the weight. The twins had recently moved out of their parents’ house into their own apartment near the university campus, and he’d agreed weeks ago to help them move. Lord knew he needed the break from thinking about Edeena.

  He grimaced, lifting the sofa higher as his brother yelped and scrambled further up the stairs. The second twin was waiting for them, offering completely unhelpful moving advice.

  The indomitable Countess Saleri had been driving him and his detail crazy for the past two weeks. Not because she was causing them trouble—far from it. She’d basically been wasting her money. Not leaving the house, not relaxing, flitting around that big old mansion like she was some Civil War-era ghost. She’d explained it away by saying she needed to focus on her family’s financials, but there had to be more to it than that. It was like she’d given up.

  “Excellent!
Excellent.” He heard his mother’s voice announce her triumph, and he gritted his teeth further. Only a Greek mother would insist on managing her sons’ exodus from the family home, thereby somehow managing to trip up their first step toward independence before they’d even taken it. But his brothers would learn eventually.

  And for the moment they were getting enough food and maternal nurturing to bury them.

  “Bring it here, Vincent, it will be perfect.”

  He moved in the direction of his mother’s voice, lowering the couch carefully so his brothers could maneuver through the piles of stuff that had accumulated on the floor. Even with his mother present, there was only so much cleaning that could happen in the midst of moving.

  Together, he and his brother dropped the couch on the floor as gently as possible, and then the boy sprawled to the side, gasping as if he’d been asked to run uphill for an hour.

  “Don’t plan on moving this back out, okay?” He surveyed the ugly couch one of the boys had gotten from . . . somewhere. “It’ll be easier to chop it up with an axe and throw it out the window.”

  “Vincent, it’s good exercise,” tutted his mother. He didn’t miss her accusing dark eyes as she scowled at him. “And good for me, too. I haven’t seen you in a month. A month! How can you treat me so poorly?”

  Vince grinned despite himself at her mortally wounded tone, and his mother’s face broke into a wide smile. “There it is, the smile I love so much,” she said. “Come here and help me pick up after your barbarian brothers, then walk me to the car so I can escape.”

  For as much as much as his mother worked their Greek heritage, she also was a pragmatist. She’d not complained—much—when Vince had moved out himself after launching his security business in college, and she’d tried valiantly to encourage his brothers to leave the nest. The fact that they’d shown no real interest in flying away had served both parties well enough for the past few years, but now it seemed like his mother had come to terms with the boys growing up.

 

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