One and Only (4 page)

“They’ve got me in a private room. Things have quieted down a bit, but I had a few X-rays, plus a team of doctors checking me over in the emergency room. I think they’re satisfied that I’m okay. As you suspected, they admitted me for the night. A nurse is supposed to wake me up every hour to check my eyes or something.”

“They’re probably concerned about the bump on your head. Does it hurt?”

“Not much. But you were right to leave a little bit of the damage from the crash. They’re already marveling over how well I came through the wreck that killed everybody else.”

“I’m sorry I had to leave a single mark on your beautiful body, but we have to be careful if you want to continue to live your current life.”

“I appreciate all the thought and effort you’ve put into this, Atticus. I love my family and friends, but I love you more, especially for going out of your way to preserve my relationships with them. You’re a special, amazing man and I can’t believe you’re in my life.”

“Same here, my love. And of course we need your family and friends, otherwise who will we invite to our wedding?”

She paused, the flavor of her shock, delight and awe coming through loud and clear.
“You want to marry me?”

“Oh, yes. A wedding like you’ve always dreamed of, Lissa. With all the trimmings, including a big bridal party. I guess I’ll have to come up with groomsmen to balance out your old college friends, eh?”
His chuckle sounded through their minds.
“But we’ll have to have an evening wedding, of course.”

“I can’t believe it.”

“Believe it, my love. I never thought to marry, and in the eyes of my people, we are already mated, but I know from your thoughts how important this is to you. I want you to have the ceremony and the reception of your dreams. That is, if you’ll consent to be my wife. Sorry, I should have asked that first. Will you marry me, Lissa, and make me the happiest of men?”

“Yes! Yes, I’d be delighted to marry you, Atticus. I love you.”

“Hold that thought, love, for this evening. Dawn approaches and I must seek shelter for the day. Will you be all right today?”

“I’ll be fine. They let me call my friend Jena. She’s a doctor. She should be here any minute, though she’s not on staff at this hospital. She’ll gather the rest of the group and they’ll take good care of me. I’ll get my things from the hotel and be at your place as soon as I can ditch my friends.”

“
Our
place, Lissa. This vineyard is your home now too. Or we could move someplace else if you want. I’ll live anywhere, as long as you’re there.”

“I know how much you love the vineyard, Atticus. That you’d be willing to give it up for me means a lot, but there’s no need. The place is a dream. The house is lovely and the grounds are gorgeous. I’ll be happy living there…with you.”

“Good. Then hurry home, love. I’ll be awaiting your return.”

Jena entered Lissa’s hospital room shortly after dawn, waking Lissa with her presence. Not long after Jena assured herself that Lissa really would be all right, their friend Kelly arrived with a change of clothes for when the doctors sprung Lissa later that morning. As Lissa had predicted, the troops were rallied and her friends circled around her, taking turns sitting with her and talking until the doctors let her go with a few words of instruction and a bottle of pain relievers.

Over their objections, Lissa had her friends take her first to the resort to collect her bags, which had been sent ahead. That accomplished, they took her home and stayed for lunch. Lissa laid the groundwork for her new relationship with Atticus by telling them of her plan to visit the man who’d rescued her, to return his shirt.

“Should you be driving after that knock on the skull?” Kelly wanted to know.

“The doctors said I’m fine, right, Jena?” Lissa turned her gaze on the doctor and Jena had to admit she was right. “Besides, I’m just going to drop off the shirt he let me use. Believe me, if you’d seen this man, you’d want to do the same.”

“He’s that good looking?” Jena asked as she poured tea for them all in Lissa’s small kitchen.

“Better,” Lissa said with a grin. “His name is Atticus Maxwell and he has lovely, mysterious eyes.”

“Maxwell?
The
Atticus Maxwell who owns the most exclusive winery in the entire valley? They say he’s a bit of a recluse, and eccentric too, though he bottles some of the best wine in the country—maybe even the world. It’s won all kinds of awards,” Kelly said with surprise widening her eyes. “Honey, he’s one of the richest men in the valley. You showed up on
his
doorstep?”

“I didn’t know whose house it was. It was just the first one I saw after walking away from the accident in a daze.”

“You were very lucky, Lissa. And blessed. Somebody upstairs was watching over you.” Jena’s voice dropped to a hushed whisper. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”

A group hug followed and soon after, Lissa was able to usher her friends out the door of her apartment with promises to call the next day, or sooner, if she needed anything. Lissa set about packing her belongings, but only a few. She couldn’t do anything too obvious yet. Atticus had cautioned her that they had to move slowly. But she filled a suitcase with clothes and shoes, taking a few mementoes that she wanted to have with her at his house. She watered her plants and closed up the apartment so it would be okay for a few days. It was unlikely she’d be back anytime soon. She wanted to spend every moment with Atticus and she knew he felt the same.

She threw the suitcase into the trunk of her car and headed out of town toward Atticus’s place in the valley, about an hour away. He’d given her the keys and codes for the alarm system and gate. She didn’t feel like a visitor or trespasser when she let herself into the big house. Instead, she felt very much as if she were coming home.

Lissa made dinner for herself in the sparkling clean kitchen. Atticus had a few canned goods and packaged foods in his cupboards, though she knew he didn’t need to eat. Like many things about the giant house, it was stocked for the occasional mortal guest and designed to give Atticus every appearance of normalcy. His kind lived in secret and had for centuries. Atticus had explained earlier about the lengths he’d gone to give every appearance of being a normal man and there was no doubt he’d become very good at putting up a façade of mortality.

The kitchen was a dream—big and airy with every modern convenience—as was the rest of the house. She loved the Mission style furniture and earth tones that dominated most of the décor. She gave herself a tour of the above-ground rooms, pleased to find an art studio, a small home gym and a very busy-looking office. He found her there, while she was perusing his calendar, which was lying open on the desk.

She sensed him even before his muscular arm snaked around her waist from behind, drawing her back against his hard chest. Warm lips traced the skin under her ear with just a hint of pointed teeth scraping against her, making her hotter than she’d ever been for any other man.

“Good morrow, my love.” His deep voice sounded near her ear, sending shivers down her spine.

“Atticus.” His name was a sigh of pleasure as he cupped one of her breasts, tugging and exciting her every nerve.

“I love to hear you say my name just that way.” His warm chuckle skittered along her senses as he turned her in his arms. “Waking up to you in our home is a miracle, Lissa. One I never thought I would experience. I feel as if heaven is smiling on me for the first time in many long years.”

The kiss they shared then was one of coming home, of undreamed of love, of safety and hope. Lissa didn’t know how much time had passed when Atticus finally released her lips, but her head was spinning and she had to hold on to him for balance. He’d made her dizzy with just his kiss.

“How do you like the house?” He moved further back, once he seemed sure she was steady on her feet. “I sensed your pleasure as you toured earlier, but as we’re new to this joining, I thought we’d start slowly.”

“How so?” She perched on the edge of his desk, since he seemed to want to talk.

“I have a lot more experience traipsing through people’s minds than you, my dear.” He gave her a sly smile. “I thought it best to give each other a little room to interact as any normal mortal couple would…in the beginning at least…when we’re not making love. When I’m inside your body, I can’t help but want to be in your mind as well.”

Lissa remembered the way they’d joined the night before and shivered. There was nothing that could compare with the way they’d shared minds and bodies in the ultimate pleasure.

“I agree.” She tried to smile, but her mouth was dry from the heat of her memories. “And I’ll admit it’s hard to get used to the idea of sharing our minds. I’m a little psychic, but I’ve only ever gotten the odd premonition here and there. I’ve never been able to read someone’s thoughts, though it was rumored my grandmother could.”

“Really?” Atticus seemed intrigued. “She must have been an amazing woman. Even without trying to enter your mind, I can feel the love and respect you have for her. Keeping the connection partially blocked will help us when we need to act normally in the company of mortals. Your friends, for example. At some point, I’ll need to meet them.”

Lissa laughed, thinking how her buddies would drool over Atticus. It wouldn’t be too hard to convince them she’d fallen head over heels for the man in such a short amount of time.

“Give it a week or two. I have a standing dinner with the group a week from Wednesday. We get together every month to share gossip. I’ll start getting them used to the idea that we’re an item then.”

“I see you’ve been giving this some thought as well.” Atticus’s approval washed over her senses. She’d never been all that empathic before, but she could feel his emotions, even if she wasn’t directly reading his thoughts. “As for my friends,” he lifted the calendar from the desk, “you’ll meet one tonight. I’ve asked the Master to come meet you, since it’s such a rare occurrence that one of us finds his mate. Marc and I have been friends a long time. You’ll like him.”

“You really call him Master?”

“Sometimes. It is his title, since he rules the bloodletters in this region. I’m in the hierarchy as well. I’m his second, actually. We have a small circle of friends, all of whom rank highly in the supernatural hierarchy hereabouts, but Marc is our leader. Hence the title of Master. But he’s a good man. Not at all lord-of-the-manor. You’ll see. I think you’ll like him. He’s got a wickedly sharp sense of humor.”

She felt the genuine affection Atticus had for the other man and was intrigued. There was a devilish sparkle in his eye when he spoke of this “Master” that boded well. If Atticus liked him, chances were, she would too. They were aligned like that. Perhaps because they were mates.

Lissa felt cheated that they didn’t have time to make love before Marc arrived, but as Atticus told her, it was better to get the formalities out of the way before they got too distracted. They would spend the rest of the night caught up in each other, she knew. And Atticus was talking in terms of centuries together, which still overwhelmed her. They would have time.

Marc LaTour was handsome as sin and sharp as a tack. He greeted Atticus with a backslapping hug and then turned his arresting, assessing gaze on Lissa. She wanted to squirm under his inspection until she saw the very real awe in his expression. He seemed genuinely happy for Atticus and at the same time a little afraid of her. That dichotomy made her want to put him at ease.

Atticus poured wine for them all and Marc raised a toast to them. “I’m happy for you both,” Marc said, sitting at ease in the cozy living room. “Between us, Lissa, I was growing concerned for my friend Atticus. He took chances he shouldn’t have in recent years. Hopefully with you here, he’ll be more careful. I value his friendship.”

“As I value yours, my friend.” Atticus tipped his wineglass in Marc’s direction. “But please don’t frighten my mate. All that matters now is that she
is
here and we are together. What came before matters not.”

Lissa placed her hand over his, drawing his attention. “What came before made you what you are, Atticus, and I love every part of you. But you can rest assured,” she transferred her attention to Marc, “there will be no more taking chances with his life. That carelessness is over.”

She could see hints of the things he’d allowed to happen, the desolation in his life that led him to that shuttle bus and to the brink of death. Even with their connection moderated by his incredible psychic control, she knew he’d been near the end of his rope, but now that they’d found each other, his entire outlook had taken a radical turn.

“And glad I am to hear it.” Marc stood, helping himself to a second glass of wine from the sideboard, clearly at home in Atticus’s house. “But I have some news I must impart that makes it even more critical. I hesitate to say this in front of you, Lissa, for I don’t mean to worry you, but as new mates, I’ve heard there’s no way to really keep you from knowing what he knows, so…” Marc shrugged elegantly. Everything about the man was both devilish and suave.

Atticus sat forward. “What is it?”

“Ian looked over the accident site and the vehicle wreckage at my request. When he reported back at sunset, I went over there myself before coming here. Atticus, that was no accident, though the mortals will no doubt rule it as such. There was the faint scent of magic around the vehicle. I have no doubt it was tampered with.”

“What flavor of magic?
Were
? Mortal? Fey? Or something else?” The rigidity in Atticus’s spine and his narrow-eyed gaze alerted Lissa to the seriousness of the situation. She felt a hint of disbelief at their casual use of the term “magic”, but then, she hadn’t believed in vampires until a day ago either.

“It was something very old, indeed.” Marc’s eyes took on a faraway cast as he seemed to search for an answer. “It felt fey, but not quite. And ancient. It’s something just tickling my memory, but I’m not altogether certain I’ve ever run across this particular kind of thing before. It’s damned odd, to say the least. Ian’s organizing surveillance in case the magic-user returns to the scene of the crime.”