At the end of the day, Vane was wild and untamable. He wasn't just a man. He was a guardian.
And a wolf.
She pulled back to stare up at him. All she wanted was to keep him like this forever. But could she really tame this man? And did she really, truly, want to spend the rest of her life looking back over her shoulder in fear that his parents or brother Dare would be coming for them or their children?
It was a scary proposition.
And the clock was ticking for them. In a few short days she would have to make a decision that could either make them supremely happy, utterly miserable, or It could kill them both.
An hour later Bride made her way downstairs alone. Vane had "created" a very pretty dark emerald velvet dress for her to dine in. He had left her at Valerius's with Fury while he went to Sanctuary to see if one of the Were-Hunters there would either give him word of Fang or perhaps rescind his banishment long enough for him to check on his brother.
Bride smoothed her hair nervously as she came down the stairs. She wasn't sure what to expect from a vampire who hunted Daimons. Unlike Tabitha, she'd never met one before. And it would have helped if Otto hadn't departed the house shortly after Vane. As she left the stairs, she noted the pasties were gone from the statues. She smiled in spite of herself.
She entered the elegant drawing room to find a tall, black-haired man standing with his back to her as he gazed out the bay windows into the rear courtyard.
His stance was rigid, unyielding. He wore his hair pulled back into a perfect ponytail and was dressed in an obviously expensive, tailor-made black silk suit.
He cocked his head as if he sensed her presence.
As he turned around, she paused.
He was an incredibly handsome man. Black eyes stared out of a face that had been carefully sculpted by the right kind of genes. He had a long, aquiline nose and lips that were set in a firm line that was unyielding and harsh. He was, without a doubt, the most intense person Bride had ever met.
No wonder Otto gave him such a hard time. It was obvious this man had no sense of humor and took everything very seriously.
"You must be Bride," he said in that odd Italian accent that Otto had pegged perfectly. "I am Valerius Magnus. Welcome to my home."
With his regal bearing, she felt a momentary impulse to curtsy before him. "Thank you for letting us stay here."
He inclined his head with the stiff formality of royalty.
"Please," he said, indicating a black velvet-covered armchair. "Be seated. Dinner will be placed promptly on the table in five minutes. I shall have a servant bring you your wine while we wait."
Bride had never been more self-conscious in her life than she was walking across the room to sit in that chair. This vampire did seem ancient and powerful. Most of all, he was good manners and patrician breeding incarnate.
Valerius moved to an intercom where he pressed a button and did in fact, order her wine.
Once finished, he returned to her side. "I apologize that my house wasn't in order when you arrived."
She looked around the perfectly kept room. "How so?"
"The statuary," he said with only a slight curling of his lip. "You may rest assured that Tony Manero has been properly castigated for his actions." She heard him mutter under his breath, "It's a pity that in this day and age it's illegal to beat your servants."
"Tony Manero?" she asked, amazed a man like Valerius would know the pop culture character from Saturday Night Fever.
"Otto," he said disdainfully. "I still can't believe the Council sent him to me. I asked them for an Italian Squire, not an eye-talian."
Bride burst out laughing. She couldn't help herself. Oh, Valerius had a sense of humor all right. It was just a very dry one.
His face softened a degree at the sound of her laughter, and at that moment, Bride suspected Valerius wasn't as cold and formal as he appeared. That a secret part of him actually liked sharing laughter, but that his icy demeanor kept it all but alien from him.
Fury flashed into the room, just in front of them. Like her, he was still fidgeting with his clothes, which were a bit rumpled.
"Damn," Fury said under his breath. "One day I'm going to master this shit if it kills me." He looked up and blushed as if he weren't aware he'd already arrived. "Sorry I'm late." He cleared his throat and straightened up.
Valerius arched a regal brow at the Were-Hunter.
"You must be Val," Fury said, extending his hand.