Startled, I look at him. “Yes. How did you know about that?” I ask him.
“Devon’s story. You were supposed to do that with him,” he says without a hint of jealousy, which surprises me.
Oh, shit!
“Of course. Yes, well that didn’t end very well. I hope it’s different with you.” Meaning no murders, no Holy ground, just a plain old, garden variety turning.
He leans forward to kiss me softly. “Me too. I don’t fancy missing the race because I’m too busy turning into a Vampire.”
I giggle despite myself and we both relax a bit as Devon joins us. He sits opposite Cole and stares at him for a long time.
Cole stares back.
Finally, Devon speaks, “I guess I should welcome you to the family, but instead I’m going to warn you that if you hurt her in any way whatsoever, I will hunt you down and rip your head off.”
Cole looks alarmed.
“Try to look less startled when Constantine says it to you. He’s big on ripping people’s heads off,” Devon says while grinning.
Cole chuckles. “Will do,” he says in relief.
“Seriously though. I’m happy that Liv is happy. It’s been a long time and she deserves it. Take care of her.”
They both look at me and Cole takes my hand. “I intend to,” he says.
We land shortly thereafter in France and catch the helicopter into Monte Carlo. From there, a limo takes us to the hotel. The press is out in their droves snapping away, looking for the money shot. I have asked Cole to hold off announcing our engagement until I have told CK. It would be far, far worse should he (and the rest of The Council) find out via the press. I have taken off the emerald necklace and replaced it with the long, dangling gold chain that I had on earlier, which I popped the engagement ring onto. It is now nestled between my breasts, under my dress, where it can’t be seen. I was reluctant to take it off, but it had to be done.
We pose for a few photos, Cole’s hand in mine, and finally we are in the suite at the Fairmont Hotel. Cole immediately heads to the balcony overlooking the hairpin.
“This is fucking fantastic!” he says with a massive grin, his concerns about CK momentarily forgotten. Devon joins him outside. I want him here for damage control and moral support. He readily agreed, more interested to see how this plays out than anything else.
I start pacing in front of the door, restless. I check the clock for the millionth time, 2:15 PM; it glares at me. Cole and Devon have cracked open the champagne, but I can’t drink anything. Not yet.
“Relax, Liv,” Devon admonishes. “You’re driving me crazy with the pacing.”
I stop dead in my tracks at the familiar tingle up the back of my neck followed by a loud knock on the door.
Glancing quickly at Cole, I smooth down my dress and square my shoulders. I motion to Cole to wait where he is, and he nods. I reach for the handle and with a deep breath, I open the door.
My breath catches when I see my sire in the doorway, casually leaning against the frame in his ridiculously expensive suit. My face lights up as he smiles that killer smile and pushes himself upright.
“CK,” I say
“Liv, good to see you, my sweet.” He swoops his head down to kiss me full on the mouth, for longer than is strictly necessary. He pulls me into a hug, his hand ‘accidentally’ stroking my rear. I feel him smile against my mouth and he pulls away. “You look ravishing,” he compliments me, holding me at arm's length.
“As do you,” I compliment back. “Please come in.” I nod to CK’s ever-present head of security. “Nico. Nice to see you.”
“And you, Liv. You look lovely,” he says.
I nod gracefully. Nico is human. Six feet, four inches of Italian yum with his black hair and eyes to match, scarily good at his job and just plain scary if he wants to be. Super protective of his boss and as loyal as they come, he has worked for CK for about twenty years. Monetary gain aside, he would rather die than betray him. I admire that.
CK takes my right hand in a show of possessiveness. “Did you have a good flight?” he asks, ignoring Cole and Devon, for now.
“Yes, very. How was the commute?” I ask politely.
“Frustrating,” he says with a pointed look and leaves it at that.
His gaze goes hard as he flicks it to Devon, lounging on the sofa. He has to be thinking about our weird three-way. I know I am. “Devon,” he says coldly, nodding his head.