Lord's Fall (Elder Races #5)(88)

She could even cook if he wanted. Well, she amended that one pretty quickly. She could reheat any meat that somebody else had precooked for him, if all she had to do was to put a covered package in the oven and then leave the kitchen fast.

By that point, he was laughing at her, and she didn’t blame him. But he agreed to take care of the honeymoon, and she got to plan the wedding of her dreams.

The justice of the peace came to the penthouse for a very simple ceremony. Pia wore the flirty maternity dress she had found at Target, which she loved, even though the sacrilege nearly put Stanford in the hospital. She felt fun and pretty, and she didn’t worry for a minute about spilling anything down the front or ruining a piece of art that had cost a fortune. Dragos wore his best hand-stitched suit, with a silk shirt and platinum cuff links that, he informed her, were not jewelry but simply a necessary part of the suit ensemble.

Eva and Graydon stood as witnesses. Afterward, they had thirty people for breakfast, including the sentinels, Pia’s friends from Elfie’s, the other psychos, and Rune and Carling, who flew in from Miami. From Adriyel, Niniane and Tiago—well, Niniane, who also signed Tiago’s name on the cards along with half a dozen x’s and o’s, and surrounded the signatures with a few hearts—sent a pile of handcrafted presents, richly dyed textiles along with a stunning metal sculpture, all unique Dark Fae designs.

The only shadow that lay over her was knowing what a long, hard road to recovery lay in front of the Elves. Linwe had written her a small, sad note of thanks for all the gifts, and she passed on snippets of information. Beluviel had closed herself off from others and refused to speak of what happened. The Numenlaurian children that had survived were having difficulty with almost everything, and many of the adults were still in a vegetative state. Ferion never seemed to laugh any longer. He worked viciously long hours, and the Wood had not greened at all that spring.

Other than that sadness, Pia was happy, so happy. Nothing was hanging over her head. Dragos had promised her that if the sentinels didn’t learn to get along, he was going to knock them around like bowling pins. The Freaky Deaky was over, the peanut was strong and growing fast, and she was head over heels in love with her new husband.

Even better, her husband was head over heels in love with her. She didn’t have to have faith on that, or rely on the fact that they were mates. The evidence of how he felt lived in his eyes. He followed her with his gaze when she was across the room, frowned whenever she stepped away and watched for her return.

They ate from a sumptuous breakfast buffet and had a lightly flavored, lemon sponge wedding cake. Then for their honeymoon, they traveled by limousine upstate to Dragos’s country estate just outside of Carthage.

Pia had fallen silent when she had looked at the gigantic mansion for the first time. Even though it was March and spring was fast approaching, the entire scene was blanketed in snow and looked like a winter wonderland. She could tell Dragos was watching her expression closely but she couldn’t summon up any other reaction but a wide-eyed stare. She couldn’t think of what to say.

The place was enormous. It had to have at least fifty rooms. If it went on the market, it would probably sell for fifty million dollars and get a write-up in the Wall Street Journal or maybe the New York Times.

And she had offered to cook in there? She wasn’t sure if she would be able to find the kitchen without a GPS.

She finally managed to say, “It’s beautiful.”

And it was, in a stunningly palatial, utterly uncomfortable, totally-not-what-she-had-envisioned-for-her-honeymoon way.

He rubbed her back, and when she was finally able to drag her gaze away from the sight, she found him biting back a smile. “We’re not staying at the main house,” he told her. “We’re staying at the estate manager’s house.”

“Oh?” Her eyebrows rose hopefully.

“It has four bedrooms and four baths, and the family room has a fireplace along with a nice view of a private lake,” he said. “That house is much cozier for a stay without any support staff, and I’ve already had the place stocked with food, along with recent releases in paperback and on DVD. There’s Internet and the phones, but we can unplug the phones and choose not to get online, and the manager’s already taken off for his own vacation. As soon as our limo driver leaves, there’ll be no one else around but us for two hundred and fifty acres.”

Somewhere in the middle of all that description, she began to smile. “That sounds like heaven,” she confessed.

“It does, doesn’t it?” He took a deep breath and let it out. She could almost see the longstanding tension that he carried coiled between his shoulders begin to drop away. “The last time I was in the manager’s house was years ago. Let’s go in and see what he’s done with the place.”

The limo took them on a well-plowed side drive to a charming house with a Cape Cod design. Beyond the house, a glimmer of the lake showed in a break between the trees. She said promptly, “I love it.”

Dragos laughed. He would always be a hard-looking male, and he would always carry the blade of his personality in his face, but in that moment he looked happier than she had seen in a long time. He said, “Well, let’s make sure the inside is all right. We can always leave and either stay at the main house or go someplace else entirely, if you want to.”

“I don’t want to.” She didn’t wait for either Dragos or the driver to open her door. Instead she flung it open herself and hurried up the sidewalk. She hadn’t wanted to change out of her fun dress for the trip, so she was careful with her high heels on the frigid pavement, even though it was immaculately clear of snow or ice. When she tried the handle, she found that the door was already unlocked.