Dark Obsession (Vampire Royals of New York #3) - Sarah Piper Page 0,95
touching until the sun went down and the seemingly infinite supply of hot water finally turned cold.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Dorian had tied the silk scarf expertly over Charlotte’s eyes, and now he placed his hands on her shoulders, carefully guiding her into the remodeled dining room.
It didn’t even look like the same room anymore, which was how he’d wanted it. No longer his fathers. No longer the room he most hated. But one he’d rebuilt, intending to fill it only with love. With family.
His family.
In less than a week, they’d be gathering around the table for their first holiday meal together—the Redthorne family Thanksgiving.
It was centuries in the making, and for the first time, Dorian actually felt the meaning behind its name.
He took one more glance around the room, wanting everything to be perfect for the big reveal. New hardwood floors gleamed beneath deep gray walls, the white woodwork and trim like icing on a perfect cake. They’d widened the glass doors and topped them with sheer window treatments that allowed in even more light. A blond oak table and chairs gave the room a bright, modern look, complete with a centerpiece of roses from Rosalind’s garden. At the far end of the room, the hearth had been rebuilt by hand, with massive black and gray stones from a local quarry.
It was beautiful, and the thought of filling it with his raucous family again made his heart nearly burst.
Now, Charlotte held her hands out in front of her, as if she were afraid she might trip.
“I’ve got you, love.” Dorian’s lips brushed the shell of her ear, and beneath her thin silk bathrobe, he felt the quickening of her pulse. “Are you certain you’re ready for this? Certain you absolutely, positively want to see this?”
“Oh my God, yes!” A nervous giggle bubbled from her lips, and she bounced a bit on her toes, reminding him of the proverbial child on Christmas morn. “I’ve been ready all day, Dorian. Come on!”
“You need to be really ready, though. Completely, utterly—”
“Dorian! If you keep building it up like this, it’ll be a total letdown.”
Dorian laughed, coming around in front of her and kissing her playfully on the nose. “Not possible.”
“The suspense is killing me. Would you just—”
Dorian silenced her with a deep kiss, then slowly untied the scarf, letting it drape down over her shoulders instead. He held her gaze for a long moment, her eyes full of so much love and wonder, it made his heart hurt in the best possible way.
Bloody hell, I love this woman.
After one more stolen kiss, he finally stepped out of her line of vision, revealing not just the new dining room, but the gift he’d installed for her.
Charlotte gasped, pressing her hands to her mouth as the tears filled her eyes.
There, mounted above the rebuilt hearth, illuminated by museum-quality recessed lighting that erased every last shadow, was her painting.
Adrift.
“But how did you…” She shook her head, as if she still couldn’t believe it. “That’s impossible. I saw it go at auction. That night when—”
“Yes, I remember.” Dorian grinned and took her hands. “Let’s just say I made the buyer an offer he couldn’t refuse.”
Her eyes widened, and he rushed to add, “Quite legally, I assure you. I’ve got the bill of sale to prove it, along with the certificate of authenticity from the Smithsonian, who sold it to the family in New York years ago, all on the up-and-up.”
Clearly relieved, she released Dorian’s hands and approached the painting, admiring it up close. “Dorian, I… My God. It’s so beautiful, I don’t even know what to say.”
“Say you love it,” he whispered, pulling her into his arms again.
“I love it. I love you.”
“It reminds me of you,” he said. “Beautiful. Dangerous. But when the storm finally breaks and that little sliver of sunshine slices through the clouds… All I see is the light, Charlotte. The hope.”
Charlotte stretched up on her toes and kissed him, lingering in his embrace, and again he marveled that she was here. That she was his.
He’d never known a love like his, never felt anything so deep.
“It’s amazing,” she said, slowly turning to take in the rest of the room. “Everything looks so beautiful, and it’s… God, I can’t believe Adrift is here. Just… here, hanging in your dining room.”
“Our dining room,” Dorian amended.
She blinked at him and held her breath, tears filling her eyes once again.
Dorian took her face between his hands, gazing into those eyes.