Page 168 of Savior
My mother shifts her suspicious gaze to him now, but his grin never falters. She doesn’t respond to his remark, and I’m sure now, it went right over her head. Suddenly her eyes light up as she glances past his shoulder, catching a glimpse of someone, who clearly does have her approval. I already know who it is, before I even look.
“Scoundrel.” I whisper to him, so low only Dean can hear me.
“Temptress.” He teasingly whispers back.
My sister is descending the wide staircase on the opposite side of the room. To my surprise, she’s not wearing the emerald green gown she settled on during our little shopping spree for this party. She’s wearing a slinky, sequin, black gown, showing off her perfect figure. As she approaches us, the large, opulent mirror on the wall, reflects the back of her dress, which has a dangerously low back that just barely droops to the top of her ass. Any lower, and it would be considered borderline indecent. However, the dress is gracing my sister’s perfect body. For that reason alone, my mother is full of nothing but compliments, as she walks past us to greet Giuliana.
I can’t help glancing up to study Dean’s reaction to my sister’s grand entrance. A part of me admittedly afraid of finding him at all taken aback by her stunning beauty. He doesn’t look at her long though, his eyes drop, and his head turns slightly to look down at me once again. Lifting my hand to his face, he presses a kiss to the back of my fingers, as if he’s aware of my unspoken insecurities.
With a smile, he says softly, “More lovely, every day… And always, the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. In any room. Any-fucking-where.You, Vanna. For the rest of my life, and beyond if I’m lucky… Only you.”
My anxiety lessens as I stare back into his dark, loving eyes. “Tell me that again, in a few months, when this baby has me looking like I swallowed a beachball.”
His hand squeezes mine for a moment as he continues to hold it between us. “You think that’s gonna turn me off?” he gives me that crooked grin again. “Not a goddamned chance. You’re a Goddess, Vanna. I’ll fuckin’ worship you till my dying day.”
“Aphrodite, or Willendorf?” I quietly tease him.
“Oh, you’re in a league of your own, doll.” He winks at me, before he glances back up at my approaching family. “I Googled that witch slang of yours, by the way, a while ago. Aphrodite is depicted as a blonde. That ain’t my thing anymore.” He teases me back.
“Isn’t this place amazing?” My sister gushes, extending her arms as she approaches me. Placing her hands on my shoulders, she bends slightly, kissing the air at my cheeks, so as not to mess up our makeup. “It’s so good to see you both again.”
She moves on to actually hug Dean. “You both look great.” Her hand lingers on his arm a moment longer, then she steps back to look us over. “You clean up well, Dean.” She smirks at him, before making it a point to turn completely around to speak to our mother, giving us, though I’m sure it’s more about Dean, a real good view of her slender, bare back. “Shall we announce the happy couple?” Glancing over her shoulder at us, she adds, “Everyone is waiting in the ballroom. Just wait until you see it! Marble floors, marble columns, golden pineapples and crown molding. The floor to ceiling windows over look gardens. There’s even a private vineyard! Seriously, Giovanna, you should consider this place for the reception. Just imagine the wedding photos in the vineyard. Classic and tasteful.”
“You drink wine, don’t you, Dean?” My mother suddenly asks him, taking my sister gently by the arm. They walk towards the double doors of what I presume is the ballroom. Although I’m sure he was able to detect the condescending undertone of her question, as if someone like him would only drink draft beer and cheap whiskey, Dean simply smiles.
Following my mother and sister further into the old, country mansion, Dean leans into my ear and sarcastically whispers, “Oh I do hope they have cucumber sandwiches!”
This shit ain’t my scene. Hell, it ain’t even Vanna’s. At least, not anymore. Not since I’ve known her. I’d have never guessed she comes from stock like this. We’re dragged from person to person, couple to couple, introducing me to her aunts, uncles, cousins, cousins, cousins and more cousins. Jesus fuck. By the time I’ve met everyone, I think my head’s almost spinning. Does her mother intend to invite all of these people to our wedding? Shit… If that’s the case, I’m gonna have to make a few more trips to that underground circuit in Myrtle Beach. As if I don’t have enough shit on my plate to worry about lately.
“Don’t come from a large family, do you?” Her father asks, as I throw back another flute of champagne, watching Vanna across the room laughing with a few of those cousins. I’m not even buzzed yet.
“No.” I reply. He pats the back of my shoulder, almost sympathetically. I’ve got her, my MC. That’s all I need.
“Have you two chosen a date yet? Her mother would like to make that announcement tonight, if possible.”
I’d sooner expect to find her mother clutching her pearls, praying that we break up and call off our engagement. I’m genuinely surprised she’s eager to announce a wedding date. Unless, this is all simply theatrics to her. That would not surprise me in the slightest.
“We have not.”
“What’s the hold up?” he asks, looking at me more directly now.
Shit. I don’t want to lie. Clearing my throat, I go with, “Your daughter can’t decide between a spring or winter wedding.”
He chuckles now, shaking his head. “Women. Have you voiced your preference to her?”
“Whatever makes her happy.” I say, unable to resist a smile as Vanna’s eyes catch mine from across the ballroom. She’s so fuckin’ beautiful. My lovely little Peony among the roses. I can’t help getting lost in her image. The way her long dark hair, which she took the time to curl into more defined waves this evening, cascades down her back. The way this dress manages to conceal our little secret from them. I know every fuckin’ inch of her, though. Every line. Every curve. I can see it, not only in her body, but in her eyes. I’m shocked her family hasn’t realized she’s nearing the end of her second trimester.
“Well, whenever it is, I’m glad you’re doing right by her.” Her father says, his words pulling me back to our conversation. “We were convinced she was pregnant when you both sprung this unexpected engagement on us.” He laughs, clearly content in his belief that she isn’t.
Fuck.
I promised Vanna I would follow her lead when it comes to her family. I lift the flute to take another gulp of champagne, realizing it’s empty. Shit. If I don’t say something now, right fucking now, he’s going to suspect something…
“I’ll always do right by her.” That isn’t a lie. “I love her more than life.” Not a lie either.
Her father eventually wanders off to talk golf with his equally pompous pals. Or cousins. Whatever. Vanna finds her way back to my side.
“Care for a dance?” I ask her.
