Nightwind (28 page)

“Be a fool not to,” Agnes quipped from the stove. “Wouldn’t she, sister?”

Lauren swiveled her attention from the two old ladies to Syntian and wondered at the knowing looks

that flowed between them. She sat back in her chair with bafflement.

Syntian patted Anna and the old woman moved away. He leaned toward Lauren. “Well?”

She looked at him. “Well, what?”

“Lunch?” he reminded.

Lauren nodded. “I suppose so.”

He smiled. “What about supper?”

“Did you make those reservations like we suggested?” Agnes asked, turning around to level a polite

stare at Syntian.

“Yes, ma’am, I did,” Syntian answered. He winked at Lauren. “They’re holding a private room for us at

Le Paradis for tomorrow night at seven.”

Lauren gaped at him. “Le Paradis? Syntian, that’s the most expensive restaurant in the Panhandle!”

“He can afford it,” Anna proclaimed. “Can’t you, son?”

Syntian’s smile widened. “Yes, I surely can.”

Lauren shook her head. “I don’t have anything good enough to wear to that place!”

“Well, pooh!” Agnes snorted. She turned around, ladle in her hand and shook it at Syntian. “Go buy her

something pretty to wear, Syntian!”

Lauren gasped and swung her head toward the old woman. “Miss Agnes! I can’t allow that!”

“Whyever not?” Anna asked, putting her hands on her scrawny hips.

“Yes,” Agnes said. “Why ever not?”

Lauren stared at the women. “Because it’s not right, that’s why!”

Agnes glanced at Anna then both women turned their eyes to Syntian. “You haven’t asked her yet, have

you?”

“Ask me what?” Lauren questioned suspiciously.

“To marry him!” Agnes announced.

“What else?” Anna tittered.

Syntian winced as Lauren gawked at him. He shrugged helplessly, avoiding Lauren’s look. “I haven’t

had the chance.”

“Shame on you, Lauren!” Agnes clucked. “You give this boy a chance to ask you.”

“Yes, give the boy a chance to ask,” Anna echoed.

The younger woman felt as though she had committed some unpardonable social faux pas. She opened

her mouth to speak, but Syntian’s words cut through her bewilderment and pitched her headlong into

total shock.

“Will you, Lauren?” he asked and when she turned her head to stare at him, his face was filled with

hope.

“Oh, for pity’s sake, Syntian Cree!” Anna exclaimed. “That’s no proper way to ask for a lady’s hand in

marriage!”

“Certainly not!” Agnes agreed. She leveled her ladle at him. “You were brought up better than that,

young man!”

Syntian nodded. “You are right; I was.” He pushed back his chair and stood.

Lauren’s mouth sagged open as Syntian went to his knee before her and reached out to take her hand in

his, bringing it to his lips in a chaste kiss before settling her fingers against his chest.

“Miss Lauren,” he said in a grave voice as he stared into her eyes. “Would you do me the honor of

becoming my bride?”

If the world had crashed down around her, Lauren could not have been more surprised. Here it was:

eight o’clock in the morning; kitchen filled with people, two of whom had never even spoken to her

before that day and who were now making supper for her; a man at her feet, asking her to marry him;

coffee brewing on the counter; sunlight filtering in through the blinds to light on Syntian’s face as though

caressing it.

“Will you, Lauren?”

“Answer him, girl!’’ Anna commanded. “Don’t keep the boy on his knees waiting!”

“You’re torturing him, Lauren,” Agnes stated. “Can’t you see that?”

Syntian’s grip on Lauren’s hand increased and his face filled with an emotion that could only have been a

fear of rejection. “Lauren?” he asked, his voice shaky.

Lauren looked from his face to Anna’s to Agnes’ and then back to Syntian’s expectant gaze. “I don’t...”

she started to say, her voice breaking. She tried again after clearing her throat. “I don’t know what to

say.”

“Say yes!” Agnes told her.

“Of course, she’s going to say yes. Aren’t you, dear?”

His fingers around her hand were hot. “Say it, Lauren,” he encouraged. “Say you will marry me.”

“I ...” Lauren swallowed, looking away from him. She searched the floor, as though trying to find an

answer. She shook her head. “This is so sudden.”

“Please?” he whispered, his voice filled with all the emotion a woman could ask for.

Slowly she lifted her head and looked at him. “Syntian, we haven’t known—”

The word never drew sound, but it was on his lips: “Please?”

“You’ll break his heart if you say no,” Agnes told her.

“Can’t you see what your silence is doing to the boy, Lauren?” Anna queried.

Syntian reached up to lay the palm of his hand on Lauren’s cheek, caressing her. “Say it, Lauren. Please,

say it. I love you with all my heart and I want to spend the rest of our lives together making you happy.”

“Oh for pity sakes, gal!” Anna declared. “Give the boy your answer!”

Lauren bit her lip, looking from Syntian to the old women and back again, then sighed. “All right,” she

whispered. “Yes.”

Syntian drew in his breath. “Yes?” he asked, not daring to speak louder than a whisper for fear he had

heard her wrong.

Lauren smiled, her love showing in her eyes. “Yes,” she answered. “I would be honored to be your

wife.”

“Well thank goodness!” Agnes sighed.

“Where’s the ring, Synti?” Anna prodded.

“Ring?” Lauren asked.

He let go of her hand long enough to rummage in his pocket. When he brought his hand up, he held a

beautiful two-carat emerald-cut solitaire. He took her hand and slipped the ring on the ring finger of her

left hand. He looked up at her. “Like it?”

Lauren stared at the white-hot sparkle of the diamond in the sunlight. She nodded, overwhelmed and

overcome with emotion.

Anna and Agnes beamed as they watched the handsome young man stand and draw his fiancée into his

arms. Their aged faces cracked with contentment as they watched him seal the bargain with a polite,

virtuous kiss on the young woman’s quivering lips.

“Syntian Cree!” Agnes said with exasperation. “Can’t you do any better than that?”

“Kiss the gal like you mean it, boy!” Anna demanded.

Lauren stared up into his heated gaze and felt herself plummeting through time and space. When he

pulled her against him, nestling her in the warmth and security of his arms, she laid her head on his chest,

listening to the steady, comforting beat of his heart through the silk of his shirt, Lauren felt emotions she

had never expected to feel.

“I love you, Lauren,” he said softly against her temple and his arms tightened around her. “With all my

heart, I love you.”

“Will you kiss her like you mean that, then?” Anna snapped.

Lauren felt his finger under her chin, lifting her face. She looked up, her belly clenching with

unadulterated lust when she saw the look in his dark eyes. When he lowered his mouth to hers once

more, slid his hand along her jaw, through her hair to brace her head for his kiss, she thought her knees

would buckle beneath her. As his tongue slipped possessively past her lips, she felt the thrust of it all the

way to her womb and sagged against him, thankful for the strong arm that pressed her intimately to his

body. “That’s more like it,” she vaguely heard Anna proclaim.

When his lips released hers, he stepped back a little then planted a sweet, chaste kiss on her forehead,

then her nose, one last soft touch to her lips, then smiled. “Tell me you love me,” he whispered.

“Yes,” Lauren breathed. “I do.” She answered his smile. “I do love you.”

“And we’ll be celebrating your engagement tomorrow night at Le Paradis!” Agnes sighed.

A quiver of excitement trilled down Lauren’s spine and she pushed away from Syntian, looking up at him

for confirmation of the old woman’s words.

“You didn’t stand a chance,” Syntian told her. “We had it planned down to the smallest detail.” He

cupped her cheek. “Remember what I once told you? I always get what I set out to acquire, Lauren

Fowler.”

After Syntian had gone and she was left alone to sip her coffee while the two old ladies bustled about the

kitchen, Lauren could not believe what had happened to her that morning. Even on her short walk to

work—having declined his offer to drive her for she needed time to think—she had trouble crediting

what had occurred in her little kitchen. Her mind was swirling with questions, with confusion, with

absolute shock as she fumbled open the shop door. Standing there, key in the lock, she stared through

the glass into the interior of the dark store and felt a wave of total elation flood through her body.

“I hear congratulations are in order.”

Lauren jumped, startled by the voice and turned, her hand still on the key to stare at Angeline Hellstrom.

The older woman was standing beside her limo. There was an odd look on Mrs. Hellstrom’s face.

“He couldn’t wait to call me and tell me,” Angeline mumbled, stepping up onto the curb. She nodded at

her driver and the black man skirted the car and opened the door, tipping his hat to the two women as he

climbed inside the expensive automobile.

“I don’t know what to say,” Lauren answered, embarrassed when she remembered the connection

between this woman and the man she had agreed to marry.

“Don’t worry,” Angeline told her as she eased Lauren aside and finished unlocking the door. “I’m happy

for the both of you.” She pushed the door open and motioned Lauren inside.

Lauren felt a tremor of unease go down her backbone as she entered the store. Had she seen the look

of pure spite on the older woman’s face, she would have known why.

“I’m notCatholic,” Syntian told her as he drove her home from the engagement party the next night.

“Would you consider converting?” she asked, nibbling at her lower lip. His right hand was threaded with

hers and she felt his grip tightened.

“You have to belong to a religion to convert to another, Sweeting.”

Lauren looked out her window, not distressed by his words, but a little worried about them. “You don’t

go to church at all?”

“No,” he answered.

She was afraid to tell him she wanted to be married in her church.

“I’ve contacted a friend of mine,” Syntian said, glancing at her averted profile. “He’s a notary public.”

A portion of her happiness evaporated. Lauren looked at him. “A notary public?”

Syntian shrugged away the gasp in her voice. “In the state of Florida, a notary public can marry people.”

Another vapor of happiness slipped away. “Why not a justice of the peace?” Lauren asked. She saw his

lips purse into a frown. “We could go to the courthouse.”

He turned to look at her. “Is that what you want? To stand in the courthouse and be married?”

“No, I want to stand in a church,” she said, somewhat annoyed at his tone, “Besides, isn’t standing in the

courthouse the same as standing in someone’s living room or office and getting married?”

Syntian thought about that for a moment. “I have a friend who is a sea captain. Paegan has a schooner

moored in Panama City. I can arrange for him to marry us, then have his crew take us on a cruise down

to the Bahamas and Puerto Rico.” He caressed her hand. “How do you like that idea?”

“A ship?” Lauren had never done anything so wonderful. A sea cruise sounded nice.

“The Revenant.” He glanced at her and was relieved to see her expression was not closed to the idea.

Lauren let out a long sigh, giving in. “If that’s what you want.”

He didn’t say anything, then pulled his hand away from hers to down shift the Porsche. He turned into a

brightly lit parking lot and cut the engine. Facing her, he put his hand on her shoulder.

“Would it make you feel better if I had a Catholic priest there to bless the marriage?”

Lauren smiled. “Yes.”

Syntian squeezed her shoulder. “Then, Father Robbie it is!”

“Why don’t we invite my priest?” she asked, searching his face.

Syntian tensed. He looked away from her. “I’ve already invited Robbie to the wedding. He and I were

in college together and—”

“It doesn’t matter,” Lauren said, not wanting to spoil things for him. She put her hand on his knee. “Just

so long as he blesses our marriage, it doesn’t make any difference.”

On the drive back into Milton, Syntian breathed a sigh of relief that Lauren had been so agreeable. It

would have been more difficult to arrange matters should he have been forced to ask her parish priest to

the wedding. His thoughts went to Robert MacCorkingdale, the defrocked priest who would be blessing

his and Lauren’s union, and he smiled.

Things were working out just the way he had planned.

Angeline watchedhim stalking about her bedroom. His unleashed fury was mounting and she knew the

effort it was costing him to keep that violence in check. She looked down at the powerful fists clutched at

his side and smiled.

Syntian saw that smile and growled, a deep roar of warning pushing from his throat. His umber eyes

glowed with hatred and his lips pulled back over gleaming white teeth.

“You might as well sit down,” Angeline scolded him. “You’re not going anywhere tonight, Syntian.”

He lashed out, sweeping his arm across Angeline’s vanity, knocking her cosmetics to the floor where

they shattered and spilled on the carpet. The pungent smell of Opium filled the air. His narrowed gaze

turned on the woman as though daring her to chastise him for the destruction.

Angeline shrugged and leaned back on her chaise. “Nothing that can’t be replaced,” she informed him.