Once Upon a Dream (7 page)

Titania popped a macaron in her mouth, chewing. But suddenly she stopped, her eyes bulging, and spit it out into her hand. “Salty, very salty,” she said as she ran to the bathroom.

“Whoops.” Vi shrugged. “I wondered if I got the salt and sugar confused.”

Gigi rubbed her back. “Maybe baking isn’t what you’re meant to do.”

“Probably not,” Viola said, frowning at the lopsided cookies. “I wish I could figure out what that is though.”

“You’ll figure it out,” Gigi assured her.

Summer remembered what Viola had said about research before. “Is that why you want to go to a teahouse with me?”

Her older sister nodded as she pushed the macarons aside. “I thought I might be able to start a teahouse. If I have someone else do the baking, obviously.”

Titania nodded. “Business suffers when you poison your customers.”

Gigi poked her in the side. “Doesn’t Ian need servicing or something?”

Their youngest sister grinned lasciviously as she raised her camera. “He comes later, so to speak.”

They groaned, though if Summer were being honest she’d have admitted how jealous she was. Except for Viola and Beatrice, her sisters had found their princes. She wanted that so much for herself.

Gigi clapped her hands together. “Enough dawdling. Summer, back in the chair.”

“You’re going to love the mask I picked for you,” Viola said, perking up. “It’s perfect. The colors look fabulous with your dress.”

“You’ve seen my dress?” She hadn’t even seen her dress yet.

“Rosalind showed it to me.” Viola sat on the edge of the bed and smiled dreamily. “A masquerade ball is so romantic. You’re going to be stunning, and he won’t be able to resist you.”

“That’s the goal.” Gigi lifted her chin and surveyed her handiwork.

Titania snapped a couple more pictures. “Isn’t all that makeup just a waste of time, considering she’s going to just put a mask over it?”

“The eyes and lips stand out even with the mask on, and when she takes the mask off for her man she’ll want to look perfect.” Imogen stared intently at Summer’s face, first one eye and then the other. Then she nodded and picked up a tube of mascara.

“She already looks perfect.” Titania peeked out from behind her camera. “Or are you saying she’s ugly? Because that’s what it sounds like to me.”

Gigi threw a puff of tissue at their youngest sister.

Who dodged it, smirking, and took another picture.

Summer flinched, the sound punctuating her nerves.

“I told you to stop taking pictures,” Gigi commanded, focused on Summer’s lashes. “You’re making us all tense.”

Summer felt a rush of affection for her sister, who winked at her before lifting her chin and dabbing more mascara on her.

Rosalind walked into the room, carrying a long garment bag. “Aren’t you done yet?”

“Just about.” Imogen set the mascara aside and picked up a small glittering bottle. “Just a little fairy dust. Close your eyes, Summer.”

She did as she was told, knowing better than to disobey a Summerhill. When she opened her eyes again and looked in the mirror, her face and décolletage shimmered with a touch of pink-hued glitter. “I look so …”

“Beautiful,” Imogen stated.

“Magical,” Rosalind added.

“Like Ballroom Barbie,” Titania said.

Rosalind and Gigi both nudged the younger one away.

“Careful of the camera.” She held it out of their reach and plopped onto Summer’s bed. “Where’s Portia?”

“She said something about needing to procure the right jewelry,” Gigi said.

Rosalind stilled as she unzipped the garment bag. “She’s not committing some sort of theft, is she?”

Gigi shook her head. “With Portia, you never know.”

Viola frowned. “Has anyone talked to her since Mother agreed to let the American visit?”

“
No
,” they all said emphatically.

“I put Bea in charge of that,” Rosalind said.

“Poor Bea.” Vi shook her head. “She’s put in charge of a lot.”

“She likes being in charge,” Gigi pointed out, setting the mascara tube down. “If she weren’t in charge, she’d be cantankerous.”

“Don’t you have a fancy vocabulary?” Titania said, stepping into her face and snapping a shot.

Gigi stuck her tongue out, holding it for Titania to take a picture before facing Summer. “All right, darling. You’re all set here.”

“My turn.” Rosalind offered her hand and a smile.

Summer accepted both eagerly. “I get to see it now?”

“It’s worth the wait.” She took the garment bag off the hook, turning it so the back was to the room as she took the dress out of it. Then she let the bag fall and turned the dress around.

They gasped—even Titania, who didn’t care about clothing. Rosalind had texted her a picture of it, but the photo hadn’t done it justice. It was a bright green that Summer would never dare to wear in real life, long, with layers of tulle that sparkled with rhinestones.

She vaguely heard the whirr of Titania’s camera as she reached out to touch the dress. It really looked like a fairy princess dress. She wouldn’t have been surprised if it had vanished in a
poof!
when her fingers brushed it. “It’s so pretty.”

“Step into it,” Rosalind instructed, puddling it on the floor.

She took her robe off, tossing it at Titania, mostly to prevent her from taking any photos of her in her underwear. She wasn’t used to having sisters or undressing in front of others. Even with the men she’d dated, she’d quickly undressed and gotten into bed before they’d arrived.

Rosalind shimmied the dress up her hips and settled it in place. As Summer held on to the bodice, Rosalind hooked the back with the nimble expertise of the dressmaker that she was.

“Here are your shoes.” Gigi held out the sparkly pair Summer had bought specifically for tonight.

As she slipped into them, Portia hurried through the door. “Oh good, I’m not late. It took longer than I thought to get these.”

Summer turned as Portia opened a large velvet case that held a small fortune in jewels.

Gigi ran her fingers over the stones. “Those belonged to Grandmother Eugenia, didn’t they? I remember getting in trouble for playing dress up with them.”

“Weren’t they in the lot that was sold to Jackson’s company?” Rosalind asked suspiciously. “That was given to the auction house to be sold?”

Titania lowered her camera. “If you stole jewels for Summer to wear, I’m going to be impressed.”

Summer couldn’t help touching the stones, stolen or not. “I’ll represent you for free if you go to jail.”

Portia rolled her eyes. “You do business mergers, not criminal law, and I didn’t steal them. I got special dispensation from Martin for this night. They aren’t to be auctioned until sometime this fall.”

“So Summer won’t be arrested either?” Viola asked.

“Of course not. I wouldn’t do that to her.” She faced Summer. “They belonged to Father’s mother. She was your grandmother, too, so it seemed right that you should wear them tonight.”

Eyes misting over, she put a hand to her mouth. She’d always longed to belong, but she’d never imagined they’d accept her so wholeheartedly. All her dreams were coming true, one by one.

She just had to win the prince.

“Now you’ve done it, Portia,” Titania said, snapping a quick shot. “Gigi just spent an hour doing her eyes and you’re going to ruin in it seconds.”

Summer laughed shakily, dabbing the corners of her eyes with her fingertips. “I’ll stop before I set us back another hour.”

“Because you’re in danger of turning into a pumpkin.” Rosalind checked the time. “You need to get going.”

“Okay.” She fastened the earrings as Portia secured the necklace on her. She glanced in the mirror.

“Your mask,” Vi said, coming behind her to set it on her face. She carefully tied the satin ribbons at the back of her hair, which was piled up on one side and then trailing down the other in large ringlets.

“The tickets are in your purse. Bea’s driver is outside.” Rosalind handed her the small clutch that attached to her wrist. “I think you’re set to conquer your man.”

“Am I?” She took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves, and almost choked on the air.

“You are.” Gigi took her by the shoulders. “You’re beautiful and smart. A man would have to be a fool not to want you.”

“Plus you’re a Summerhill,” Titania added. “If he doesn’t cooperate, you’ll gut him with a knife.”

Summer stepped into the foyer, her breath catching. Lights twinkled all over, like a magical fairyland. People milled about, all dressed in the fanciest of clothes, their faces covered in glittering masks. Even the waiters wore them, simple white ones to go with their uniforms.

One came up to her, offering champagne. She shook her head, craning her neck. She was interested in only one man.

If she’d be able to find him. She hadn’t thought about how she’d recognize Ryan given he’d be masked. She should have had Bea find out what he was wearing. If anyone could find that out, it’d have been Beatrice Summerhill.

And then she saw him.

He leaned in an archway that opened on the ballroom. Even though his face was covered, she knew he was The One. The way her heart beat as she looked at him confirmed it.

His mask was black—simple compared to the gilded masks of other people. He wore a tuxedo that was obviously designer, perfectly tailored to his form. She’d seen plenty of men in tuxes in her life, but none had ever looked as scrumptious as him. Seeing him filled her with a quivery sort of anticipation.

Please don’t let me be a tongue-tied mess.

She shook her head, squaring her shoulders. Tonight her tongue was going to work. Tonight, she was a princess, and princesses always got the prince.

She strode toward him, confident, pretending like she was going to a meeting. Rosalind had done a great job picking the perfect dress. It floated, carrying her on air.

His hands were in his pocket and his head was turned, but his gaze was directly on her.

Of course he noticed her. They were supposed to be together, after all.

He straightened as she drew near, taking his hands out of his pockets. As she approached, he held his hand out. “Dance?”

She gasped. Eagerly, she put her hand in his and let him sweep her away.

He moved her into the crowd. Summer had no idea what sort of dance it was—maybe a waltz. She just nestled into him, eyes closed, and let herself go in a way that she never had before.

It was perfect.

He didn’t crowd her—he didn’t force her into his movements. It felt like he allowed her the space to move in her own way, even as he guided and protected her.

Of course he did, she thought, sighing. He was her prince. That was what he was supposed to do.

It was a powerful feeling. She was sharing in his lead, a give and take that lifted her to bursting.

She opened her eyes and smiled up at him. “I like this.”

He nodded solemnly.

“No. I really
like
this.” Because she knew he didn’t understand, and because tonight she was a magical version of herself, she took hold of his lapels and pulled his head down to kiss him.

He made a startled sound, but his hands gripped her closer. She looked into his eyes—she’d never noticed what a lovely shade of green they were—and wrapped her hand around his neck. He felt much more muscular than he’d looked all this time. His hair felt impossibly soft, and he smelled better than lemon cake on a birthday.

How would he taste?

She opened her lips and licked his bottom one, just a little, before nibbling it.

His hands tightened on her, and his eyes narrowed. Without a word, he whirled them behind the column in the doorway away from the eyes of the general public, pressed her against it, and kissed her like she was The One.

Surprised, her eyes flew open, but he deepened the kiss somehow and her eyes drifted shut with the intensity. She melted into him, her thoughts dissolving in the perfection of their lips melding.

It was magic.

She’d known all along he was the right one. Now she had proof, because a kiss never lied.

Summer hummed, her lips glancing against his as she murmured, “I knew it’d be you.”

“Me?” He peered at her from behind his mask.

She frowned—was Ryan from Australia? His accent wasn’t entirely British.

“Do I know you?” he asked.

She must have heard him wrong the first time, because his voice seemed normal this time. She shook her head. “No, but I’d like you to. My name is Summer.”

“Summer …”

“Summer Welles.” She kissed him again, more aggressive, more sure this time. She needed to prove to him that she was the one he should be with. She hummed, whispering against his lips. “I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to find you, but it was like you were waiting for me.”

He moved his hand lower, so it cupped behind her hip. “Is that how it seemed?”

She nodded, letting him kiss down her neck. A trail of fire lit her from inside, and she was glad the wall had her back. “I can’t believe I’ve been afraid to talk to you all this time. And now things are so complicated, with your situation.”

He lifted his head, his eyes sharp. “My situation?”

She nodded. “With the other things you have going on.”

“About those other things—”

“Not tonight.” She ran her hand down his torso, to rest at his waist. “Let’s just be together, the two of us, for this one night.”

He looked down at her, his eyes solemn. “Be together how?”

Any way he wanted.

Except there was Sondra Fawkes. Summer’s mother had been a mistress, and that was one path Summer knew better than to follow down. So she took a step back, trying to breathe. “Not like that.” Yet.

A spark of humor lit his eyes. “Like what, princess?”

“I could see where your mind went.” Her mind had gone right along.

He nodded. “Maybe I should get us some champagne then, to cool down.”

“Yes, please.”

She watched him walk away, resisting the urge to take out her mobile and text her sisters that she’d gotten him. She waited on the sidelines, impatient, wanting another kiss more than bubbles. Turning around, she blinked as a couple caught her attention. There was Ryan, his mask in his hand, holding Sondra Fawkes’s hand.