Broken Dove (Fantasyland #4)(107)

“I have not introduced my children to another…” he paused, his mouth quirking, “partner, so in retrospect, I see this as wise.”

He saw this as wise.

Thank God.

I relaxed in his arms.

He slid his hand down to my neck and gave me a squeeze, saying, “We must learn to talk like this, Maddie.”

Again, he was so right.

And again, I nodded.

That tender look slid into his eyes before he bent his neck to touch his mouth to mine and, I swear, it was crazy, I knew it, but I had to fight back bursting into tears because I missed that look and his touch so…damned…much.

“I do not like to think of your father leaving you to that man when you approached him for aid,” he whispered and I pressed my lips together and inhaled through my nose in a continued effort to fight back the tears. “You will not find such disregard here, my dove. So I urge you, along with discovering yourself, to find a way to get used to that.”

I lifted my hands to the sides of his sweater, curling my fingers in to hold on and forced myself to nod while blinking away the tears that threatened to flood my eyes.

Yes. He was beautiful. In way more ways than one.

He slid his hand back up to my jaw so he could again sweep his thumb across my cheek and moved in to kiss my forehead.

Then he moved back, the pads of his fingers digging in gently, and announced, “Now, we go tell Christophe and Élan you journey with us to Brunskar.”

My stomach lurched but I said nothing.

Crisis averted, a new trauma right on its heels.

Such was my life.

Oh boy.

* * * * *

Ten minutes later, I stood in the great room trying not to fidget with my hands. Apollo was standing up in the entryway listening to something Laures had to say but his eyes were on me.

The minute we got downstairs, we’d run into a maid and he’d called for the kids.

I was trying to keep it together but I feared if I had to wait one more second, I’d fail.

At that thought, luckily (kind of) I heard a commotion and saw Élan round the corner at a run, Christophe coming slower at her heels.

She stopped dead when she saw me.

I clenched my hands together and tried not to hyperventilate.

Her gaze shot to her dad.

“Is Miss Madeleine coming with us?” she called across the expanse to her father.

“Indeed, precious girl,” Apollo called back.

She instantly threw both her hands up in the air and cried, “Huzzah!” sticking out her booty and shaking it side-to-side.

Abruptly, she stopped doing this and turned to her brother, pointing at him, a triumphant look on her face.

She then announced, “Ha, Chris! Another girl is coming with us. That means when we stop to take lunch, we don’t have to shoot at things with arrows and have snowball fights. That means we can make snow castles and talk to the bunnies!” She stuck her booty back out and swung it around again, pumping her arms at her sides and crying, “Huzzah! Huzzah-huzzah-huzzah!”

I looked to Christophe.

He was watching his sister with a disgusted look on his face.

Shit.

He turned his eyes to me, that look dissolved and he grinned.

My heart thumped.

I grinned back then looked to Apollo.

He was smiling at his children.

Then he said, “Let us go.”

Élan dashed to me, grabbed my hand and started tugging me toward the stairs.

Feeling her little hand in mine made me catch my breath so hard, it hurt.

But I didn’t mind the pain.

I let her lead me up the steps, Christophe joined his father and they walked out first, Élan now skipping beside me as we followed and I tried to hold her hand in a casual way when I wanted to hold her so tight, I’d never be able to let go.

Apollo looked over his shoulder as he descended the front steps, his eyes dropping to his daughter then coming to mine.

And on his face, that tender look was way, way, way off the f**king charts.

Thus every inch of me warmed in a way I knew I could put on a bikini and the chill of Lunwyn wouldn’t touch me.

Élan was right.

Huzzah!

* * * * *

One hour and fifteen minutes later, my trunks packed into one of two sleighs, the guys on horses all around (including Quincy and Balthazar, Apollo, of course, and Christophe on his own mount, like his dad), I got into the sleigh I’d be driving, my eyes on Élan who was bouncing on her bottom in the seat, the fur throw in her hands, crying, “Sit, Miss Madeleine. Sit. Sit! Let’s be away!”

I looked to the sleigh behind mine that held Loretta, Meeta and Bella, the children’s maid.

I then looked to Apollo who was talking to Remi.

Finally, I sat, Élan threw the throw over me and I took the reins.

“Miss Madeleine is in, Papa!” Christophe called.

“Excellent,” Apollo replied then ordered to the group of ten riders and two sleighs, “Proceed!”

I flicked the reins, the horses moved, the sleigh started gliding over the snow as fat, fluffy flakes of more drifted down, and the horses around us closed ranks.

But I looked back to the house to see Cristiana standing in the opened front door.

When I caught her eye, she waved. Then she winked.

I smiled and blew her a kiss.