On very rare occasions, you’ll get away with topping behavior with Niall. You won’t with me. Don’t make me come up there and get you out of the bed.
Where she would have been mortified by the reproof a few days before, she heard the tenderness in Evan’s voice. But it was still an order.
She took a quick shower, donned her clothes again, and paused at the bedroom door. He didn’t stir, even when she brushed a soft kiss on his mouth. Despite the fact that she knew she was being remiss in her duties, she was unable to make her feet move. It felt like her priority was here.
I’m always watching over him, Alanna. As much as he watches over me. Go take care of the bride. That’s your task for the rest of today.
For all their bickering, she wondered if Evan’s calm presence in his mind steadied Niall the same way it did her. She hoped so. Nodding, she left the room.
When she stepped out on the porch, she took a deep breath. For various reasons, it was difficult to go down the stairs, but she did it, reminding herself of the same thing she’d told herself earlier. She couldn’t live her life on what-ifs. Niall and Evan expected more of her than that.
Making her way across the grounds, she saw the results of the morning preparations. A wooden altar was down by the waterway bulkhead, framed by a pair of sprawling oaks. She saw florists considering different color choices, while others embellished the altar with sheer, sparkling fabric and greenery. Even though it was a life she’d never entertained for herself, she understood the desire to bond, to commit oneself to another. Enough that she indulged her desire to watch for a few moments.
Continuing, she passed pavilions with tables of elegant china and glassware, the floral centerpieces and dance floor for the reception. As she approached the house, she saw a breathtaking garland of pure red roses hung between the large, graceful columns from the upper verandah. The red of the roses was remarkably vivid and deep, suggesting the velvet silk of the petals even without touch.
“Gorgeous,” she breathed.
“Thank you.”
Turning, she saw a tall man standing just behind her. His eyes were somewhat like Niall’s, but with more amber than gold. Perhaps in his late forties, he had a steady attention in his gaze, an alert quality to his body language. That, plus the fit, combat-ready form displayed in tailored gray slacks and white dress shirt open at the throat, told her he was ex-military, since she’d seen those qualities in servants who’d come from military service. Only this man was no servant. The authority he naturally carried on his shoulders, the way he held her gaze, making her want to drop hers, told her what he was.
She knew they weren’t in a Master–servant situation, but since her conversations with humans not part of the vampire world had been short, functional interactions related to errands, groceries, et cetera, it seemed safer to go with what she knew. “You grew these, sir?” she asked.
“I did, though I had a great deal of help and guidance from my gardener, Robert. Tyler Winterman.”
Before he extended a hand, she almost knelt in instinctive subservience, as she would when a vampire made himself known to her. Flustered, she managed to stop midmotion and extend her hand. Rather than shaking it, though, he closed his hand over it, pressing her fingers in warm reassurance. “It’s all right. You’ve done nothing wrong.”
“This is a new situation for me.”
“You’ll do fine. You must be Evan and Niall’s Alanna.”
She liked the sound of that, far too much. So she lied and said what she wanted. “Yes, sir.” I’m theirs.
“Hmm. From what I heard from Evan, I have a feeling that ownership goes both ways. I can see why.” Before she could think how to reply to that amazing statement, he glanced up. A tidy, attractive woman probably a decade older than Tyler had emerged on the veranda.
“Mr. Winterman, don’t delay your guests. We have to make sure all the ladies are ready on time.”
“Sara, my housekeeper. She’s a tyrant.” The amber eyes twinkled, again reminding her of Niall, with some of Evan’s dry humor thrown in. “You better go, or I’ll be in a great deal of trouble.”
“It was very nice meeting you, sir.”
“You as well.” He released her hand. “I’ll look forward to seeing you in the company of your Master later.”
She’d heard similar words from vampires before, if they deigned to speak to her at all, but this was the first time she’d be serving Evan and Niall in front of others. The thought brought butterflies, not at all unpleasant.
He held the door open for her. Niall had helped her understand the notion of male courtesy, and the underlying sense of protectiveness that attended it, not as inconsistent with a Master–sub relationship as she might have initially thought. However, what had been learned over so many years was hard to forget. Tyler helped her past that hitch, ushering her in with a solicitous but firm hand on her lower back.
She had a brief impression of an open sitting room with white furniture enhanced with pale pink Japanese cherry trees before Sara took her up a dual curving staircase. She led her to a large room that had been cleared of everything but what would be useful to women changing for a formal event. Well-lighted, multiple vanities, floor-length mirrors scattered about the room and a half bath as large as a master, complete with several sinks. The room had the overwhelming female scents of lotions, hairsprays and light perfumes, dizzy and pleasant at once. Many had apparently stayed for the night, hence the need to prepare on premises.
Sara was everywhere, prepared to assist the women with any unexpected needs related to hair, fittings, a jammed zipper or lost button. The roomful of nearly twenty women, in various stages of dress and preparation, engaged Alanna pleasantly enough, but not at length. They obviously knew one another, and not her, and of course had already spent most of the day together. The bride was being prepared in another room with her immediate attendants.
Seeing that Sara was being inundated with requests for help, Alanna quickly donned her shimmering gray thigh-high stockings, silver dress and heels, adding the silver braid necklace and earrings she’d bought to accentuate them, and put the final touches on her makeup. Then she stepped in to assist Sara where needed.
The housekeeper was grateful for the help, especially when a harassed woman with bright green eyes and her hair scraped back from her face with a plastic band called her away to deal with a situation in the adjoining room.
Alanna fixed a torn hem and freed a zipper from the organza it had snagged. When she managed it without the smallest tear in the delicate fabric, she was hugged for her trouble. Before she could react to that shock, Sara was back.
“Alanna? You know how to do hair, right?”
She straightened as all eyes turned to her. “Yes.” She had trimmed and shaped both Evan’s and Niall’s hair, Evan taking over at the wheel of the RV to navigate the nighttime traffic while she did Niall’s, but she wasn’t sure how that was general knowledge.
“Great.” The green-eyed woman with the frazzled look pressed up urgently behind Sara. “Chloe—our bride-to-be—just got back from the hairdresser. It being Chloe, something went wrong between here and there, and not only is she forty-five minutes late, we need something to happen fast. Come with me. I’m Gen.”
Her hand was seized. Alanna hurried to keep from being dragged down the hallway. It opened up into a carpeted catwalk that crossed to the other side of the house. The tall windows of the grand foyer provided a breathtaking—and brief—view of the river. Now she was in the bride’s preparation area, an area similar to the room she’d just left. From the panic in Gen’s face, and what she’d heard secondhand of brides, she expected to find Chloe in tears. However, while her russet hair was in shocking disarray, the bride wasn’t. Chloe was a lush pixie with cheerful brown eyes. At their arrival, she hopped off her stool to take Alanna’s hands in her own.
“Thanks so much. Gen is freaking out, but Marguerite said she saw Niall earlier this morning, and had never seen his hair cut so well. That queue and the feathered layers on the side . . . she says he looks positively edible. Of course, he always does. When he said you’d done it, and had done Evan’s hair besides, I knew you could fix this.”
She pointed at her brow, where it appeared a sizeable spot had been hacked out of her bangs. At Chloe’s encouraging nod, Alanna lifted the poor shorn pieces on either side of it. “What happened?”
“Chloe happened,” Gen interrupted. “Tyler said he’d bring Monica here to do your hair, but you had to do it your way. Had to leave in the middle of the day and drive an hour to go get your hair done. And wouldn’t take anyone with you.”
“You all have been wonderful today, but it’s been a whirlwind. I wanted to get my energy straight. I do that best when I’m driving. Plus, Monica had another wedding to do. She couldn’t drive all the way out here and leave the other bride in a lurch. You would have done the same thing.”
Still holding her hands as if they were close friends, Chloe turned her attention back to Alanna. “On my way back, there was this puppy in a ditch. Some total asshole had obviously thrown him out of a car. One of those idiots who believes if you release an animal in the country, it’s kinder than taking him to a shelter. Poor thing, he was starving and tangled up in trash and cut barbwire. I got into the ditch to get him out, up to my knees in muck, stumbled and went down head first. When I hit the opposite bank, someone had thrown gum out of their car, and it got stuck in my hair. This farmer working in his cornfield saw me. He came over and was trying to help. I guess he figured the best way to remove it was with his pocketknife.”
Alanna glanced at Gen. The woman nodded, pursing her lips. “Yes, believe it or not, these are the types of things that actually happen to Chloe.” She gave the bride-to-be a severe look. “Having unbalanced energy would have been far better than being shaved bald for your wedding.”
“You only say that because you’re not a very balanced person.”