Grayson's Vow

He was wearing a black tuxedo. The mask he wore covered only the top half his face, made to look like iridescent blue, green, and black dragon scales curving around his eyes and the sides of his head. There were small horns at the top and threads of shimmering red and orange running through it to look like fire.

He was dressed as a dragon.

He paused and turned slightly to show me the wings attached to his back—black with the same blue-green scales and threads of fire. His grin grew as he turned toward me again and we met in the middle of the room, rushing together and stopping suddenly when we were a few inches apart.

We stood looking at each other for several heartbeats before he said, "Hi, little witch." His voice sounded raw and as I stared into his eyes, seen only through the holes in the mask, I swore I saw longing. "You look ravishing."

"Hi, dragon," I breathed, questions swirling through my mind. He was devilishly gorgeous as he again smiled down at me, and my heart flipped once and then twice inside my chest. "So do you. I can't believe you did this." I nodded up at his mask, grinning again.

"Oh I did," he assured me. His grin faded as he took one step forward. "I missed you."

"You did?" I whispered, taking one step forward as well.

He took a step closer. "Yes, God yes. Kira, this week . . . I have so much to tell you. We have so much to talk about. I hope—"

"We do?" I asked, my words colliding with his, hope blooming inside me again.

"Yes."

I looked down. "You didn't even call me," I said, trying to keep the hurt from my voice. "I thought—"

"Charlotte tried to find out where you were."

I blinked. "I didn't know she was asking for you. Why didn't you just ask me yourself?"

"I didn't think after . . . well, I wanted to show you rather than tell you, and so I thought it best I wait for tonight," he said, a throaty edge to his voice. "I needed to look in your eyes. Kira—"

"I—"

"Kira!" I heard sing-songed loudly from the doorway. Charlotte came rushing toward us, dressed as a fairy godmother. I laughed happily, turning to her and letting her sweep me into her warm embrace. "Oh, I don't want to crush you. Let me look at you." She turned me one way and then the other. "Perfect, simply perfect."

"You, too, Charlotte," I said. "You should wear this all the time."

Her expression gentled as she said, "My darling girl, you know how much I've come to care for you, right?"

"Yes," I said, hugging her again. And I did. Despite the reasons she'd brought Shane and Vanessa here—and I was suddenly beginning to believe her reasons were deeper than I yet knew—I didn't doubt the purity of her motives or that she cared for me. I felt it in my heart.

Seconds later, Vanessa and Shane came into the room. Vanessa dressed as the most perfect Tinkerbell I'd ever seen, and Shane in a tuxedo with a green mask and Peter Pan hat, a sword strapped to his side. I felt heat rise in my cheeks at the thought of the last time I'd seen them, but when they grinned at me, and because Vanessa hugged me warmly, I relaxed, and I felt a measure of relief. I looked over to Grayson whose expression seemed calm.

As Vanessa and Shane went to get a drink at the bar, I turned to Grayson, seeing warmth and a peace in his eyes I'd only caught glimpses of before. "You've made up with them," I said incredulously.

He nodded. "Yes. There were a lot of apologies to go around. And I explained all about . . . us. I told you I had a lot to tell you about."

I opened my mouth to speak, wanting very much to hear exactly what he'd told Vanessa and Shane, but the doorbell rang. The string quartet started up, the crooning melody of "I See The Light" filling the air, as food staff entered from the kitchen holding delicious-smelling hors d'oeuvres on silver trays.

The next two hours were a whirlwind of greeting and chatting with guests, making sure everyone was comfortable and enjoying themselves, and ensuring the party got off to a seamless start.

The costumes were wonderful, some no more than beautiful masks combined with evening wear, and others entire creations from head to toe. I still couldn't believe Grayson dressed as a dragon.

Once I had a moment to take a break, I took a glass of champagne off a passing tray and stood back to admire all the hard work I'd participated in. Everyone looked like they were having a great time, and if the admiring looks on everyone's faces as they looked around were any indication, Hawthorn Vineyard had impressed them. Hopefully they spread the word in town that Grayson had been welcoming and hospitable and his home was beautifully inviting. This place was not in shambles as the gossip indicated. On the contrary, his home sent the message there was every reason to believe the vineyard itself was on the rise under Grayson's management. Who didn't like a good comeback story? Who wouldn't wish to be part of one? This was my hope, and the point of the party.

I glanced around for Grayson and saw him among a group of guests, one of whom I recognized as Diane Fernsby, and they were laughing and obviously entertained by something he was telling them. He looked up and caught my eye, smiling over at me. It was the expression in his eyes that made my breath catch, though. That smile. It would be my undoing.

My attention was snagged by Harley, dressed as The Beast, and Priscilla dressed as a punked-out version of Beauty. I hugged them both, delighted to see them. Harley had begun working at the vineyard, which was wonderful. Despite his internal and external scars, he was such a good, kind man. I was so glad Grayson had someone like him. I spent a few minutes chatting with them and getting to know Priscilla better and then moved off to mingle with the other guests.