too."
"I don't think so." Barbara pulled her daughter into her lap. "You're not old enough to fly."
"Come on, man," Mike Junior said, "tell us how you did it."
"I'm afraid magicians are sworn never to reveal their secrets."
Barbara looked at her watch, and then stood up. "It's getting late. Kids, get your stuff together.
We've all got a big day tomorrow. Mike, are you ready to go?"
"Yeah, honey."
There was a flurry of activity as Mike and Barbara gathered up their kids and said their goodbyes. A few minutes later, Jack and Marge went to bed.
"Looks like I cleared the room," Grigori said. "That would be a problem if I were a real magician."
"Did you have to do something quite so flashy? I mean, couldn't you have done something that could be explained? And why did you make me go to sleep? I've never been levitated before, and I missed it."
"I was afraid it would scare you."
Marisa tugged on his sweater. "I'm marrying a vampire," she said with a grin. "If that doesn't scare me, nothing will."
He couldn't argue with that, so he kissed her.
"I should go," he said.
"It's early."
"Get a good night's sleep, cara. I'll keep you up late tomorrow night."
She grinned up at him, her insides quivering with anticipation.
"Domani, Marisa," he whispered. "Tomorrow, you will be mine."
The heat in his eyes, the husky tremor in his voice, sent a shiver of pleasure down her spine.
Tomorrow.
Chapter Thirty-one
Her wedding day dawned bright and clear and beautiful. Happy is the bride the sun shines on, she mused as she slipped out of bed and pulled on her robe. She'd heard that old saying often. She hoped it was true.
Too nervous to eat, she drank two cups of coffee. She was starting on a third when her father entered the kitchen.
"Morning, honey."
"Morning, Dad."
"How'd you sleep?"
"Sleep? What bride sleeps the night before the wedding?"
Jack Richards laughed. "None, I guess. That was some trick Grigori performed last night. Sure would like to know how he did it."
"Yeah, me too. Is Mom up yet?"
"Nah, she's snoring away."
Marisa giggled. It was an ongoing joke between her parents, which one of them snored the loudest.
"You're sure about this?" her father asked. "If you're not, it isn't too late to change your mind."
"I'm sure, Dad."
"I just want you to be happy, Marty."
"I am."
"You'd better eat something."
"I can't." She checked the clock, quickly swallowed the rest of her coffee. "I've got to get going. My appointment's at nine-thirty."
"Take your time. I'll hold down the fort till you get back."
"Thanks, Dad." She kissed her father on the cheek, and then hurried into her bedroom. She took a quick shower, dressed, and left the apartment.
Her first stop was the beauty shop for the works - manicure, pedicure, wash and set.
From the beauty shop, she went to the florist's. She had picked white roses and baby's breath for her bouquet. Linda and Nikki were carrying pink roses and carnations. The florist would deliver the altar flowers to the church later that day.
At twelve-thirty, she met her mother and Barbara at the church. They put big white satin bows on the first three pews, checked with the minister to make sure the white runner would be in place down the center aisle, went over the songs that the organist would be playing.
It was almost two when they got home. Barbara left to go to the hotel to get the kids fed and dressed.
"You've got to eat something," Marge Richards said. "You sit down and relax a moment while I fix you something."
"Mom, don't bother."
Marge Richards shook her head. "I didn't eat on my wedding day, either. You could hear my stomach growling all the way in the back of the church."
Jack Richards laughed. "Yeah, she leaned over while the minister was talking and said she wished she had a Big Mac."
Marisa laughed. "You're kidding, right?"
Her father shook his head. "Nope. It's the honest truth."
"Are you sure you don't want something to eat?" Marge asked.
"Maybe later. I'm gonna try to take a nap. Wake me in an hour, okay?"
"All right, sweetie."
Marisa went into her bedroom and shut the door. Kicking off her shoes, she stretched out on the bed and closed her eyes. In a little over three hours, she would be Grigori's wife...
Marisa, I, too, am counting the hours.
"Grigori!" She sat up, her gaze darting around the room.
Sleep, cara mia, I will be with you soon.
"Where are you?"
I am home, dreaming of you.
With a sigh, she turned on her side and closed her eyes.