Fateful (32 page)

She still had a hard time seeing her own
worth for what he seemed to think it was, and the tears returned.
Her makeup would need to be redone. She dabbed at the moisture
almost desperately, fighting to keep the droplets from falling onto
the silk fabric.

“Oh forget it,” Ethan said, exasperated. He
yanked a handkerchief from his pocket, blotted her tears away and
then wiped the lipstick off. He pulled Danielle to his chest,
almost roughly and brought his lips down onto hers. Between his
hypnotizing eyes and his surrendering breath she was completely
lost.

When he released her mouth he turned the
power of his smoldering blue eyes onto hers. That familiarity never
weakened or wavered—that’s why he feels this way—they knew each
other before, before everything. Why was she having so much trouble
remembering this?

“Thank you, you just lavish me with so much.
I’m not used to being so spoiled.”

“Well, you’d better get used to it.”

She sighed. “Should I go fix my face
now?”

“No, I wanted to practice dancing with you,
and you need dinner. We’ll worry about your makeup right before the
ball begins ... and I would like to be able to kiss you before the
sun sets. I can’t do that with the red lipstick. It looked amazing
on you, but I won’t be restrained like that again until it’s
absolutely necessary.”

“I liked the breath thing though,” she
confessed coyly.

“We’d better be careful with that one.”

She understood what he meant. It was on the
edge of crossing a line she’d been reluctant to set. Somehow,
taking his breath seemed almost more intimate than even
kissing.

Ethan stood then, took her hand and urged her
to standing as well. “Come to the dining room. I have dinner for
you.”

“I-I’m not really hungry, and I don’t want to
slime this dress.”

“Nonsense, you must eat. How will you last
till midnight?”

“All right, but don’t feed me anything
messy.”

“Well then, I should tell you. I did make
pasta.”

She stopped walking. “I can’t eat marinara in
silk!” She changed directions, heading for Sophia’s room.

Ethan snagged her arm. “Where are you going
now?”

“I’m going to change. I can put the dress
back on after I eat.”

“No, you’ll be fine.”

She sighed again. “If it’s messy, I’m eating
in the chemise.”

“Well.” He gulped. “You can’t do that
either.”

“Why not?” But she knew the answer as soon as
she asked the question. His face told it all.

“Danielle, are you trying to tempt me to
‘update my principles’?” Ethan asked, looking pained.

“I tempt you like that, dressed like this?”
Another stupid question, she already knew the answer to that
too.

He groaned and ran his long fingers through
his hair. “The–the sight of you in Sophia’s bathroom … all in white
… so … I can’t get that out of my head, and I don’t want to. You
make me want to throw my old-fashioned values out the window!” A
frustrated hungry gaze landed on hers. “Draw a line. Please.”

He was bringing up their conversation in the
garden. A smile fought to control her lips, and she let it.
Deciding to let him off the hook, she said, “Just keep the same
line of conduct you did before. I trust you.” Changing the subject
she said, “Show me what’s for dinner, please.”

Replaced with amusement, the frustration fell
away from his expression. He laughed softly, tucked her arm into
the crook of his and continued on to the dining room. Once there,
he seated her in the same chair as before, and she noticed that
he’d gone to extra effort to make the room more romantic for her.
In the center of the lace-covered table stood an ornate candelabra.
All of the candles were lit, and next to that was a vase full of
pink peonies from Beon’s garden. It was beautiful.

Ethan went to the kitchen and returned
wearing an apron. It was like one you might see a male waiter
wearing and it was perfectly clean, unlike Sophia’s.

He set a salad on the table in front of her
while he laid a large cloth napkin across her lap. The action was
much like they do in fine restaurants or on cruise ships.

She hesitated, then began eating the
salad—carefully. She was still worried about the unprotected top of
this dress. Salad dressing would destroy the silk. She secretly
wanted another napkin to tuck into her top like a toddler.

Sighing with relief when she managed to make
it through the salad without any mishaps, she nearly groaned when
Ethan brought soup and bread out. Danielle took one look at that
disaster waiting to happen and frowned. “Ethan, I appreciate—but, I
mean, I can’t eat that in this dress.”

He nodded and went to remove the soup from
the table. Danielle set her hand on his. “Wait, I’m sorry. Just let
me go change, and—”

“No, it’s fine, we’ll skip the soup.”

She let him take the bowl this time, then
said, “Please tell me you made penne pasta or bow ties.”

He turned to look at her. “I made angel
hair.”

Darn it. Why did he have to go and make her
favorite? She stood and ran from the room, looking back to see if
he would stop her. It seemed he was going to let her go this
time.

She made her way back to Sophia’s room, but
Sophia wasn’t there. She needed help undoing the back of the dress,
then thought of Nadia. She retraced her steps listening for voices
in hopes of finding her room instead. About three doors down, she
could hear the rumble of voices inside. She knocked, and the door,
which hadn’t been shut completely, swung open partway, revealing a
group of men she didn’t know, though one of them had come to
Ethan’s room with Max after Celeste had attacked her. She smiled,
feeling her cheeks heat up. “I’m sorry, I was looking for Nadia,”
she managed.

The man who’d accompanied Max stood and came
toward her, extending a hand. “I’m Cedric.” Giving her fingers one
firm shake, he turned to the others and said, “This is the girl
Ethan’s been dating.”

“Are you okay?” One of them asked. He sounded
French and his kind expression was twisted with worry.

“Yes, thank you, but—”

“You’re looking for Nadia,” said Cedric,
smiling.

“Yeah,” she said.

“Try four doors down that way,” he said
pointing.

Rushing in that direction, she tossed a
“thanks” over her shoulder. It was like she’d just met a group of
frat boys, but knew they were likely just Order members. And she
wondered how many other vampires were here.

Four doors down, she knocked again and heard,
“Come in,” called back. As she opened the door she saw Nadia and
Max sitting on a bed. They both looked at her with confused
expressions.

“Sorry.” She grinned. “Nadia, I need to get
this dress off.”

“Why?” Nadia asked looking even more
bewildered.

“Ethan made angel hair, but I can’t eat that
dressed in silk.”

“What’s angel hair?”

“It’s just a type of pasta, but it’s kind of
messy to eat.”

“Is it yummy?” Her green eyes rounded with
curious eagerness.

“I like it.”

“Hm. All right then.” Nadia scooted from the
bed. Her flowing green dress swished with her movement as she
strode to Danielle, and began unfastening the many hooks on the
back of the dress. “Cover your eyes, Max,” she said, glancing at
him briefly.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, his deep voice muffled
beneath his huge hands.

“And I need a shirt to put over the chemise,”
Danielle added bashfully.

“Why?” she asked again, her sable brows
pulling together with more confusion.

“Well…” She motioned to the area of
indecency.

Nadia broke out into laughter. “Oh, I get
it.” She went to one of her drawers and pulled out what looked like
an expensive white blouse.

“Do you want me eating pasta in that?” she
asked, not wanting to mess up her nice top.

“It’s washable, don’t worry.”

“May I look now?” Max requested.

Danielle pulled the top on and tied it at the
waist. “Yes, you can look.”

He dropped his hands and grinned as Nadia
laid the dress on a chair and returned to his side.

“Thank you.” She turned to return to the
dining room.

“Any time,” Nadia called after her.

Certainly Ethan heard her return, because he
promptly strode from the kitchen with the main course in hand.

“’
Kay. I’m ready to eat messy food
now,” she said returning to her seat.

“What took so long?”

“I kind of got a little lost.”

He shrugged his shoulders, but she noticed
how his gaze took in the fact that she wore a blouse over the
revealing chemise as he replaced the napkin and set the dish in
front of her. “Angel hair pasta and grilled chicken in a lemon
cream sauce, madam,” he said it like he was some eloquent British
waiter.

“Thank you,” she said lifting her fork and
spoon to begin eating. “It smells delicious.” She twirled her fork
into the bowl of her spoon, wrapping the noodles around the tines
and then slid the bite into her mouth. It tasted as good at it
smelled, and she noticed that he didn’t overdo it with the portion
sizes, for once.

Ethan hadn’t stayed to watch her eat, and she
wondered about how he ran things in the kitchen compared to how
Sophia did. When she’d finished the main dish, she snuck in to
see.

He was in the process of cutting a slice of
layered chocolate cake for her.

The kitchen was spotless. There were very few
signs that he’d just prepared a four course meal. Ethan was a very
tidy chef.

“Employees only, madam,” he said as he
drizzled chocolate sauce—chef style—onto the slice of moist-looking
cake.

“I just had to see you in action. You’re very
neat.”

“Ready for afters … or rather dessert?” he
translated. He really didn’t give her a choice in the matter as he
pressed on the small of her back, guiding her to the table.

Ethan sat down next to her this time.

She took her time savoring every single bite
of the luscious cake. She had originally feared that it may be too
rich, but it wasn’t. “That is the best chocolate cake I’ve ever
had,” she said after finishing the last bite.

“Would you like seconds?”

“Thank you, but no, I shouldn’t over do
it.”

“If you’re satisfied, then let’s continue
with our practice.” He took her hand.

She looked at him curiously when he led her
toward the bedrooms rather than the ballroom. “Where are we
going?”

“You do need to go put that dress back on.
Quite frankly, I can’t dance with you dressed in your
undergarments.”

“What?”

“You’re just really making it difficult for
me to live up to my sorely outdated standards.”

“But you’ll be okay if I’m in the dress?” she
asked hopefully.

A secret smile overtook his mouth and she
suspected he thought the dress was just as tempting, but instead he
said, “I remember when women wore this under their gowns, so for
me, it’s like having you walk around in your knickers. You may be
corrupting me, Danielle, just by your very presence.”

“Well then what do you want me to do?” She
didn’t want him to feel “corrupted” by her.

“Nothing, don’t change a thing, except get
dressed.”

“But—”

“Go get dressed, love. I’ll be waiting in the
ballroom.”

“Um, all right. Thanks for dinner. Everything
was perfect.”

“You’re welcome,” he said when she hugged
him, then ran back to Nadia’s room and knocked. Nadia called out
for her to enter again. As she opened the door, she wondered what
she would find. Danielle had a suspicion that Nadia and Max were
more than just “friends.”

Max was still there, but they were only
lounging casually and talking it seemed.

Nadia helped Danielle back into the dress.
She checked her face in the mirror, touched up with some powder at
Nadia’s vanity, but didn’t bother with lipstick yet, she then went
looking for Ethan. She found him in the ballroom with music already
playing. The song was very romantic, she noticed as a male singer
crooned out a string of loving words.

“Do I look acceptable now?”

“Yes, you look lovely.” He took her hand and
led her to the center of the dance floor.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yes, I’m sorry for earlier.”

“Is this really going to be okay tonight? Are
you sure you’re okay with my being here?”

“Beon feels it could be risky to have you at
this ball. He says I’ve grown arrogant in my old age.” He laughed.
“He may be right, but I really believe we’ll be okay. I’ve already
proven that I can spend large amounts of time in your presence and
resist harming you, and the others know not to make eye contact
with you. They can be trusted, I trust them. Besides, I feel we’ll
be too busy dancing to get into any trouble,” he said, as he took
her into his arms and began dancing to the touching melody.

She closed her eyes and pressed her cheek to
his. It was wonderful to dance with him alone, and she could have
skipped the ball altogether. Almost. However, it seemed his
intention was not to practice the figure dances because they were
dancing too close for that.

“I thought we were going to practice.”

“We’ve practiced enough,” he said dropping
his mouth near the shell of her ear. He continued dancing with her
like that until the next ballad began with a quicker tempo. And
that’s when he spun her out twirling her away from him, and then
pulled, twirling her back in. He finished by sweeping her into a
low dip.

“Oh!” She hadn’t expected that move.

He lifted her upright with a low chuckle
reverberating through his chest, and touched his nose to hers. She
wanted to kiss him, but held back. “That was fun.”

He smiled as his lips made their way to the
ticklish space just below her ear. As usual, she giggled and
struggled. He then worked his way up to her lips, taking them
captive for several moments. And she was a willing prisoner.