Page 56 of The Gathering Storm

“That he may be, but he also belongs to one of the most well-positioned families among the People.” Wilhelmina shrugged out of her down jacket and draped it over one arm. “Custom must be followed.”

“Custom be hanged,” Will gritted out, then lowered his voice. “I’m not going to argue about it in the middle of a crowded bar.”

Sigrid half turned toward him. “Lunch tomorrow at my house. Will that suit as neutral ground?”

“Yes,” Will said, at the same time his mother said, “No.”

Troy smiled faintly at Sigrid. “Of course. What can we bring?”

“Just yourselves.” She turned an equally cold gaze on Wilhelmina. “Another Daughter and I are meeting in restricted combat soon.”

Will just barely hid a wince. He hadn’t told his mom about that yet. She was going to skewer him as soon as she got him alone.

“I’ve already contacted my attorney to set aside a settlement for Will,” Sigrid continued.

Wilhelmina’s eyebrows shot up. “You expect to win against Chana Wolfbane?”

“I expect to win against all comers,” Sigrid said evenly. “Except Will. The decision is ultimately his. I won’t force him to commit to me outside of the relationship we now have.”

Surprise shot through him, and it was all he could do to keep his expression blank, as if he’d already known the terms Sigrid would demand of him should she win.

Troy’s gaze met Will’s. Something flashed in his father’s eyes, and was gone before Will could pinpoint exactly what it had been.

Wilhelmina nodded. “Fair enough. We’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

“One o’clock. Will works late tonight.” Sigrid bowed toward his parents, each in turn, then faced Will. “I’ll see you after work.”

“Sure.” He brushed a kiss across her mouth, uncaring of his mother’s disapproving tut. Damn it, a man had a right to kiss his woman at the end of a long week. “Let me know if you need anything.”

She smiled and slipped away, and disappeared into the crowd.

Troy waggled his eyebrows at Will. “I’ve always liked her. She’s got spirit.”

“Troy!” Wilhelmina said, and he laughed and tugged her into a hug and kissed her disapproval away.

Will rolled his eyes, amused in spite of himself. “C’mon, Dad, knock it off.”

Troy smacked a final kiss to his dazed wife’s mouth and winked at his son. “We’re going to try to track down your sister in this crowd, then we’re off for home. Your mother wouldn’t even let me stop by the house so we could unload our luggage. Came straight here from the airport in Atlanta.”

“For crying out loud, Mom,” Will muttered, and she stared down her nose at him until he relented and hugged her. “Be good,” he murmured against her ear. “I like her.”

He bit back what he really wanted to say, that since Sigrid had walked into The Omega, he’d suspected she was the one. The more time he spent with her, the more he believed it. His heart teetered on the edge of love, held back only by her reputation. He crossed his arms over his chest and watched his parents drift away. No, not by her reputation, but by her high-handedness, and by the newness of it all. Time would take care of one concern. They were spending every minute together that each of them could spare.

And her high-handedness seemed to be melting away piece by piece. Maybe she’d eventually soften to him. Maybe she’d even grow to love him, the way he longed to love her, whole heartedly, in at the deep end, always and forever.

Eric called Will’s name, dragging his attention back to the job at hand, and Will went back to work, his hopes and dreams and worries carefully tucked away.

Sigrid was in a tizzy by the time Will’s parents arrived just before one the next afternoon. Oh, she didn’t show it, not overtly, but Will was beginning to know her. She’d resettled the floral arrangement she’d had delivered half a dozen times, even though she’d placed it dead center on the dining room table on the very first try. The enchiladas she’d thrown together had suffered the same fate once she’d slid them into a hot oven, and she’d made at least two circuits of her entire house, searching for possible flaws in a spotless home.

The umpteenth time she opened the oven door and rechecked the enchiladas, he sidled up behind her and nuzzled a kiss to her throat. “Relax. Everything’s fine.”

Sigrid sucked in a breath, one palm pressed to her flat stomach over the ivory colored blouse she wore. “I know.”

“Then why are you so fussy today?” He turned her gently around and pulled her into his chest, soothing her with a hug and tiny kisses pressed to her eyes, the tip of her nose, the stubborn set of her chin. “I’ve never seen you this rattled before, not even the day you challenged Chana.”

Sigrid’s breath huffed out into his chest and her fingernails scratched his skin lightly through his shirt. “Challenging that upstart didn’t rattle me.”

“Yeah? Is that why you pounced on me that night when I got here?”

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