Read Darkmoon (The Witches of Cleopatra Hill Book 3) Online
Authors: Christine Pope
Darkmoon (The Witches of Cleopatra Hill Book 3) (28 page)
“Don’t make me cry,” I warned him. “Sydney spent an hour on my makeup, and if this mascara runs, I’m toast.”
He smiled. “Well, we can’t have that. But — I just wanted you to know how happy I am that you’re allowing me to walk you down the aisle.”
“Of course you’re walking me down the aisle,” I said, going to him and looping my arm through his. “You’re my father, aren’t you?”
“That I am,” he agreed. “And I’ll be here for you from now on. That’s a promise.”
“Good,” I said with a grin. “Because I have a feeling Connor and I are going to need a whole bunch of babysitters in the near future.”
He responded to that with a laugh. But then I heard the harpist beginning to play Pachelbel’s “Canon,” and knew the ritual walk down the aisle had begun. My heart sped up, and he patted my hand.
“Ready?”
“Ready,” I replied.
We began the slow processional, moving out into the bright sunshine, a fresh breeze playing with my veil. To either side were crowds of people, many of whom I barely recognized — the Wilcox contingent, I supposed — but of course there were many familiar faces, including Sydney’s parents, and then my Aunt Rachel and Tobias and the McAllister elders sitting in the front row on one side, and Lucas and Marie on the other, an empty seat next to her, waiting for my father when he was done walking me down the aisle.
Then I really didn’t have eyes for any of them, only saw Connor waiting for me, Anthony standing next to him, along with Connor’s friend Darren and a Wilcox cousin whose name totally escaped me at the moment. We were still a few yards apart, but Connor’s gaze caught mine and held. I could see the way his eyes lit up when he saw me, and I almost gasped when I saw how handsome he was in his charcoal gray suit and deep teal tie. He’d kept growing his hair, and now it was long enough that he had it back in a ponytail. I actually loved that, because it was a lot of fun to pull off the elastic at night and let my fingers drift through the heavy raven tresses. And don’t even get me started on the way that hair felt brushing against my inner thighs….
The woman officiating was someone we’d found at one of Sedona’s funky New Age churches; she’d been more than happy to perform a sort of free-form ceremony for us, as I’d discovered that the Wilcoxes tended to have traditional sorts of weddings, more for appearance than anything else, and I knew the Goddess didn’t care much how this marriage happened, as long as it did. For Connor and I were meant to be together — I knew that more than anything else — and everything else was just window dressing.
My father bent and kissed me on the cheek before going to take his seat next to Marie, and Connor stepped forward to take my hand in his. For a second I fumbled with the bouquet, totally forgetting I was supposed to hand it off to Sydney. Then I heard her laugh and come over to take it from me.
After that, things went smoothly, although I have to confess I wasn’t paying much attention to the words of the ceremony, was only staring up at Connor, wondering how I could be so lucky to have found him, how I truly did have the man of my dreams. And at the end he kissed me, warm fire spreading through my veins, and I realized he was now my husband, and I was his wife, and the mingling of the two clans had truly begun.
Whatever their differences, everyone did stand up and cheer and clap as we made our way back down the aisle, hand in hand. After this I knew there would be a frenzy and a bustle for a while as the hotel staff broke down all the lines of chairs and set up tables in their stead, but Connor and I got to miss most of that as we had our pictures taken while the sun began to dip toward the horizon, and the rocks blazed redder and redder behind us.
And when we returned, the outdoor space had been turned into fairyland, with lights swagged from the trees and gleaming from the middle of the tables, and everyone looking a little more relaxed after using the downtime to hit the open bar.
A week before the wedding, I’d had another appointment with Dr. Ruiz, and she said I could have a small glass of champagne at the reception, as long as it was only the one. “I won’t tell a bride that she can’t have a little champagne at her own wedding,” she said with a smile.
That hadn’t been the only piece of good news she shared with us, though. She performed another ultrasound, and this time she was able to be fairly definite on the sex of the twins. “Looks like a boy and a girl,” she informed us, while I grinned like an idiot and Connor held my hand and looked at me as if I’d just performed some sort of miracle.
To him, it was. No Wilcox
primus
had ever had a daughter since Nizhoni cast her curse, and he wasn’t sure what to make of it. “So does this mean our son will be the next
primus
, and our daughter will be
prima
of the McAllisters?” he asked me, and I’d laughed and said,
“How about we let them choose what they want to be? It’ll be a nice change of pace.”
He’d looked thoughtful at that comment, and nodded slowly, saying, “I think that sounds like a great idea.”
So now I held my own precious glass of champagne, determined to nurse it for as long as required, knowing I’d have to save some for the toasts. The guests milled around, segregating into their little McAllister and Wilcox clumps, just as I feared they would, although I noticed Sydney’s parents seemed to be willing to talk to anyone who crossed their paths. I didn’t know how much Syd had told them about Connor’s and my respective families, and in that moment I didn’t much care. I was just glad to see them treating all the wedding guests alike.
And then….
“Look at that,” I whispered to Connor.
He followed my gaze to where Mason stood. A tall young man with brown hair was talking to her, gesturing with a glass of champagne in one hand, and I saw her laugh and flick a lock of long dark hair behind one shoulder.
Good deployment of the hair toss, Mason,
I thought, unable to repress a smile.
“Is that…?”
“Yep, that’s my cousin Adam. I guess his heart wasn’t irretrievably broken after all.”
“Wow.”
“I think it’s awesome,” I said. “I hope they flirt all night and then go shack up in a hotel room somewhere.”
“Seriously?”
I thought of how Mason had confessed she wasn’t that thrilled about getting married, since she didn’t want to marry a cousin and was worried that being with a civilian would be too complicated. That wasn’t to say that hooking up with a McAllister might not have its own complications, but I thought it was a step in the right direction.
“Seriously,” I told him. “Or do you want to be the only guy getting lucky in Sedona tonight?”
“Nah, I’m not that selfish,” Connor replied with a grin.
“Glad to hear it,” I said, and that was all the time we had to spend on our speculations, since a couple of his cousins came up to offer their congratulations.
And then it was time for dinner, and I just barely managed to make my glass of champagne last through the cinnamon-roasted duck breast so I would still have enough for the toasts. Even so, I ended up stealing a sip or two from Connor’s glass, just because there were so many toasts — from Lucas, of course, and my father and Tobias and Anthony. Even Bryce McAllister stood up and quite unexpectedly gave us his blessing, which moved me much more than I thought it would. Somehow I hadn’t thought any of the McAllister elders would unbend enough to recognize that Connor and I truly were meant to be together.
After that I kicked off my sandals and danced with my husband, alone on the dance floor, as the moon rose above the mesa to the east and “It Had to Be You” played through the loudspeakers cleverly concealed within the branches of the trees overhead. Once our first dance was over, everyone crowded in around us, the music picking up its tempo, Wilcoxes and McAllisters all moving together in a scene I was sure no one would have believed, if they’d seen it only six months earlier.
My feet were starting to give out on me, even minus the torture devices Sydney referred to as “sandals,” so I went back to my chair and sat down, then put my feet up on the empty seat next to me, content to simply watch the happy crowd. Connor settled in beside me, then handed me a glass of ice water. “Don’t poop out on me now,” he said. “We’ve probably got at least another three hours to get through.”
“I’m not pooping out,” I replied, taking the water and drinking half of it down without stopping. After I let out a contented little sigh, I added, “I’m just waiting to get my second wind.”
“I’m sure it’ll miraculously appear as soon as it’s time to cut the cake.”
“Probably.” I wasn’t going to argue with him on that point; I’d been waiting for that spice cake with buttercream frosting all day.
But then I saw something that made me sit up straighter in my chair and drop my feet to the ground.
“I don’t believe it,” I murmured to him.
“What?”
Pointing would have been rude, so I settled for tilting my head over to the left, to a table a few yards away. Margot Emory had been sitting there alone, watching the dancing. Her expression was hard to read, but to me it almost looked…wistful? No, that was impossible. Margot wouldn’t allow herself to be wistful.
But then Lucas Wilcox approached her. I couldn’t hear what he was saying, of course, but it almost looked like he was asking her to dance. How many glasses of champagne had it taken him to work up the courage for that, realizing he was only going to get shot down?
I didn’t know, of course.
The crazy thing was, it didn’t
look
like she was shooting him down. She tilted her head back slightly to look at him, her hair, free at last from its eternal ponytail, slipping back over the shoulders of her turquoise sheath dress. Then she stood up, and even allowed him to take her by the hand and lead her to the dance floor. It was a slow dance, “The Way You Look Tonight,” and yet she was allowing him to put his arm around her waist, hadn’t tried to blast him into next week.
“Okay, now I truly believe world peace is possible,” I said at last.
“After everything we’ve been through, I believe just about anything is possible,” Connor told me, picking up my hand and pressing it to his lips.
The touch of his mouth against my skin made a delicious shiver run through me, and I halfway wished we could slip out now and start the wedding night early, spice cake or no. But I knew I would stay. I could do no less for my family…all of them, McAllister and Wilcox alike.
What a wonderful thought that was. So many wounds beginning to heal, so many old prejudices starting to fade away. It would take time, and I knew, people being who they were, that it wouldn’t always be easy. But it would be worth it. For Connor, for me, for our children, and the children who were to come after them.
At long last, the unquiet ghosts of our past had been laid to rest.
The End
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T
HE WITCHES
OF CLEOPATRA HILL
(Paranormal Romance)
T
HE DJINN WARS
(Paranormal Romance)
T
HE SEDONA FILES
(Paranormal Romance)
The first three books of this series are also available in an
omnibus edition
at a special low price!
T
ALES
OF THE LATTER KINGDOMS
(Fantasy Romance)
T
HE GAIAN CONSORTIUM
SERIES
(Science Fiction Romance)
C
hristine Pope has been writing
stories ever since she commandeered her family’s Smith-Corona typewriter back in the sixth grade. Her work includes paranormal romance, and fantasy and science fiction/space opera romance. She now works as a freelance editor and graphic designer in addition to writing fiction. She fell in love with Sedona, Arizona, while researching the Sedona Files and now makes her home there, surrounded by the red rocks. No alien sightings, though...not yet, anyway!
To be notified of new releases by Christine Pope, please sign up
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