He bowed to her. “Madam.”
Kathryn wore a frown, and her brow was
furrowed. “Golina,” she repeated softly.
“I’ll be going on a short business trip,
Mother.”
Kathryn’s eyes widened, and she shifted her
gaze from Demi to Anca. “What? Why?”
“Mr. Golina knows of a rare herb perfect for
tea, and it grows only in his country. He’s offered to show me where I can find
it.” Anca felt the story flow from her tongue easily. It almost felt like they
hadn’t been her words. She tensed, waiting to see if her mother would question
her excuse.
Her mother’s frown deepened, but she didn’t
dispute the reason for the trip. “How long will you be gone?”
“Several weeks.” Demi’s quiet tone brooked
no argument.
Anca’s eyes widened, and she shot him a
look. “I can’t possibly stay that long, Mr. Golina.”
“Anything less would be unacceptable,” he
said softly.
“I have a business to run, a life here in
New York. I can’t stay for more than a few days.”
He looked annoyed, and his mouth opened. His
eyes darted to Kathryn before moving back to Anca, and he closed his mouth with
a click. He nodded. “If that’s all the time you can spare, it will be
appreciated.”
She sighed at the averted argument, though
she couldn’t help wondering if he would resurrect it when they were out of her
mother’s presence. “I’ll be back within a week, Mother.”
“I can run the shop for you.”
Anca swallowed down an automatic no and
forced herself to nod, knowing her mother wouldn’t appreciate being coddled. “I
would be grateful if you booked appointments and handled the customers. There are
two-dozen orders of specialty teas waiting to mail out to customers. You’ll
find the boxes and invoices in my office. Please call my clients booked for
readings this week and tell them I’ll reschedule when I return. Offer them a
twenty-five-percent discount.”
Kathryn nodded, and once again, her gaze
moved to Demi. “Your name is familiar to me, Mr. Golina.”
“Hmm,” he said, without meeting her eyes.
“I’ll go pack,” Anca told Demi.
Her mother frowned. “You’re leaving
tonight?”
She nodded. “The flight is at midnight.”
“Where are you going?” Kathryn sounded
strained.
“Romania,” Demi said. “The flight lands in
Constanta.”
Anca nodded again. “If you’ll excuse me?”
She left the living room before either could protest or add something more. She
hoped Demi would keep his silence about who he was and where they were going.
* * * * *
Katrine didn’t speak or issue an invitation
to sit. Demi sat down on a lumpy chair after standing for a moment in her
presence. She stared at him with wide brown eyes, as she nibbled on her lower
lip.
Valdemeer had asked him to note Katrine’s
appearance and living conditions. He would be expecting a full report on his
wife, and Demi knew he wouldn’t be pleased to hear she had been sick, or they
lived at a level well below what should have been theirs by right.
“I know who you are,” she said with sad
resignation, though a hint of anger darkened her eyes. Katrine’s face drew into
a scowl. “Little Nicodemus, all grown up. You’ve come to take my daughter.” She
made it a statement, not a question.
He weighed his promise to Anca not to upset
her mother against outright lying. He sighed. “Yes, m’lady.”
She laughed, and it was a hard sound. “I am
no lady here.”
“You will always be my queen.”
She swallowed, and the edge of resentment
seemed to leave her face and voice. “Did Valdemeer remarry?”
He shook his head.
Katrine closed her eyes and grasped a strand
of rosary beads. She seemed to be praying. When she opened them and met his
gaze, she shook the strand. “I converted when we arrived in New York. A priest
was kind to me. He helped me find work and get settled.”
“His Majesty would have seen to your
comforts.”
She shrugged. “What right did I have to take
anything from him?” Her voice dropped. “Haven’t I taken enough, dear boy?”
He left her question unanswered, except to
say, “Perhaps your reasons were compelling, madam.”
She sighed heavily. “Why are you here?”
“His Majesty wishes to meet Anca.” He
hesitated over saying anything more. Finally, he added. “He’s ready to die.”
“Mary, Mother of God,” she whispered as she
crossed herself. “It’s time, isn’t it?”
He nodded, wondering if she would attempt to
stop it.
Katrine sat up slowly and leaned forward.
She dropped the tissue on the table before grasping one of his hands in hers.
“You will guard her, won’t you?”
He nodded.
“Valdemeer chose you as her Protector during
your journey?”
Demi nodded again. “But I’m more than that.”
Her eyes widened. “You’re her lifemate,
aren’t you?”
“Yes, m’lady, if she will have me.”
Tears slipped from the corner of Katrine’s
eyes. “I won’t see him again. I always thought someday…”
“Come with us,” he said impulsively. “You
would be a comfort to Valdemeer.”
Katrine shook her head. “I can’t be there
for it. I know what happens when she takes the Blood Oath.”
Demi squeezed her hand. “He’ll understand.”
“Tell him…” she trailed off.
“I will relay any message you wish, m’lady.”
She released his hand to brush the tears
from her cheeks. “Tell him I am sorry, and I love him. I know I wasn’t his destined
lifemate, but I wanted to make him happy.” She sniffed. When she regained her
composure, she said, “He knows the rest, I pray.”
“I’m sure he does.” Demi hesitated, feeling
the need to comfort the woman. “I think Valdemeer loved you as much he could…he
held great affection for you, m’lady.” He winced at how insensitive that
sounded. “I mean, with Madra—”
“Shh, dear boy, I know what you mean.” A
faint smile crossed Katrine’s lips. “He could never love me as much as he loved
her, but he loved me well enough. If only…” She blinked, and her eyes cleared.
“I am entrusting my daughter to you. I invoke you to uphold your vow to protect
her.”
“With my life,” he said solemnly.
Her lips trembled, and she took a moment to
speak. “More than that, I implore you to treat her well and love her.”
“With all my heart.” Demi’s eyes didn’t
shift from her gaze, and he allowed a hint of his emotions to show.
Katrine
nodded, apparently satisfied.
Chapter 3
Despite the luxurious seating in first
class, Anca’s legs hurt from being on the plane for nearly two days. As soon as
they were inside the terminal at Kogalniceanu Airport in Constanta, she set
down her carryon and stretched. The muscles in her back loosened gradually, and
her legs stopped cramping.
As she twisted her neck, Anca looked in
Demi’s direction and discovered his gaze rested on her breasts. She froze,
waiting for a reaction. He didn’t seem to realize she had caught him yet, and
his eyes remained focused on her nipples, poking through her white shirt. The thin
cotton clearly revealed the outline of her lacy bra, and his eyes didn’t
deviate from the sight.
Experimentally, she thrust forward her
chest, under the guise of stretching her back again. His eyes widened, and he
stiffened. Abruptly, his gaze moved from her chest to her face. His expression
was inscrutable.
Anca hastily broke eye contact and bent down
to lift her case, wondering at her impulse to tempt him. Why was a reaction
from him so important? She sighed quietly as she followed him through the busy
terminal to the luggage carousel. Perhaps she wanted to ensure the attraction
she felt for him wasn’t one-sided.
After claiming her luggage, they negotiated
their way through the terminal. Anca was surprised at the variety of people
mingling. There were men and women dressed professionally walking side-by-side
with others who looked as though they could have stepped from a book on the
history of fashion.
As soon as they stepped through the doors
and into the sunlight, Anca blinked. The brightness of the afternoon light hurt
her eyes, but it was a welcome respite from the dim interiors of the planes and
lounges they had passed through in the past day-and-a-half. When her eyes
adjusted, she glanced at Demi.
He was blinking rapidly, and he had averted
his face down toward the sidewalk. He slipped sunglasses from the pocket of his
suit jacket. Once they were in place, he lifted his head again. “My eyes are
sensitive.”
“I see.”
“Are you hungry?”
Anca nodded.
Demi glanced at his watch. “We’ll be at Gara
Constanta soon enough.”
“What’s Gara Constanta?”
Before answering, Demi lifted his arm to
catch the attention of a driver at the curb. “The train station.”
She frowned. “How far away is Corsova?”
“The border is about 160 kilometers away.
It’s another 40 to the capitol, where we’ll get off the train. Beyond that,
Castle Draganescu is another 30 kilometers.”
Anca’s brow furrowed as she tried to
remember metric conversions. “Um, that’s about 175 miles, isn’t it?”
“More like 140,” he said as they walked
toward the cab. The driver had exited his car and opened the trunk for them as
they neared. Demi placed his small bag in first, then her two suitcases he had
insisted on carrying.
Anca put her carryon in with the rest of the
bags and walked around to the back of the cab. She was conscious of Demi’s
proximity as she opened the door and slipped inside. Within seconds, he sat
next to her, with his thigh pressed against hers. Was it because the seat of
the Mini was small, or did he enjoy touching her?
She wet her lips. “Why didn’t we just fly
into…what is the capitol of Corsova?”
“Bulgainia,” he said, before sliding forward
to give the driver instructions to take them to the train station. When he
leaned back against the seat, he turned his face to her. “There is no airport
in Corsova.”
Her eyes widened. “How do you manage without
an airport?”
Demi shrugged. “Imports arrive by train in
the capitol, or they are shipped to the harbor at Vachow. We have no need for
an airport.”
She frowned. “What about the convenience?
Aren’t your citizens bothered by having to travel more than two hundred miles,
er, kilometers if they want to take a trip?”
Demi shrugged, but didn’t reply.
Anca sighed and turned to look out the
window. Grayish stone buildings dominated the architecture, but encroaching
Western influence was making itself known. The streets weren’t the narrow
cobblestones she might have imagined. There was little difference from the streets
she was used to, except that Constanta wasn’t nearly as populated as New York.
She turned back to him. “Is Bulgainia as
large?”
Demi shook his head. “Constanta has about
350,000 citizens. Bulgainia has ten thousand or so.”
“Is that your largest city?”
He nodded. “The population is spread out
among the villages and towns of our country. There are less than one million
Corsovans.”
Anca shook her head in wonder. She had
imagined Corsova was a small country, but she couldn’t fathom it having so
small a populace. She lived in a city with more than eight million. How would
she adjust?
Fortunately, she didn’t have to adjust, she
reminded herself. Within a week, this visit would be a memory, and she would be
home. She felt an unexpected surge of nostalgia for the crowded streets and
smoggy air of New York as the taxi wove through the traffic.
She blinked back silly tears as a car cut in
front of their cab. The driver waited patiently. She wished he would scream
obscenities at the offender, so it would seem more like home.
“You’re quiet.”
Anca turned her head to look at him. “I’m a
little homesick. Constanta is a lot more like New York than I would have
imagined, but it isn’t home.” He touched her hand, causing a current of
awareness to shoot up her arm. Her lips parted, and she expelled a harsh
breath.
He didn’t offer platitudes. Instead, he
said, “We’re approaching the train station. Soon, you will see your father’s
home.”
She tried to make her smile confident, but
it felt shaky at the edges.
The driver stopped in front of Gara
Constanta, angling into a narrow parking space left by a departing cab. Demi
slid out first, offering his hand to assist her.
Anca took it as she scooted across the seat,
though she didn’t need his help. A shiver worked its way up her spine as his
warm hand closed around hers. A dart of disappointment flashed through her when
she exited the car and he dropped her hand.
The driver got out of the Mini to open the
small trunk for them. He bobbed his head when Demi handed him a wad of bills.
With a cheery farewell, he returned to the cab. Within seconds, three men were
pushing their way past Anca and Demi to get into the car.