Page 48 of Wed to the Devil

“You're impossible,” I tell him.

He arches a brow and smirks. “But you like that, don’t you?”

I wrap my arms around his torso and close my eyes, giving him a quick hug. Where before I hugged him to reassure him, this time I hugged him to give myself strength.

“Okay,” I whisper. “If you say that I will be safe, I believe you.”

He drops a kiss to the crown of my head, rubbing my back. Then he pulls away, taking me by the hand. “Let's go. We don't want to keep Remy waiting.”

When we arrive at the restaurant, I am surprised to find it rather hushed when I step in the door. Usually the restaurant is loud and bustling. Waiters yell out last minute modifications to orders to the kitchen staff. Tables full of tipsy customers who ooh and ahhh as the food runners present spectacular dishes. Patrons at the bar laugh at the bartender's cynical jokes.

But today, as I offer my coat to a manager I don’t recognize, it is very quiet. The new manager ushers us into a silent restaurant, empty except for one very long table. Remy sits at one end, glaring at Dare’s father, who is sitting just to his right. There are a few open seats at the table, but the rest of them are filled with the usual cousins and cleanersthat I am accustomed to seeing swirling around Remy. As soon as Remy spots us, he stops glaring at Dare’s father and points to the seat immediately to his left. “Finally,” Remy grouses. “I was wondering when either of my grandsons were going to get here.”

We stroll up to the table and I take stock of the attendees. Remy is right; Burn and Daisy are nowhere to be seen.

Dare walks right up to the seat that Remy pointed out and stares at the young woman sitting in the seat beside it. “Hillary. Be a dear and fuck off.”

The young woman stands up and meekly moves aside, not even taking her wine glass as she moves to the end of the table. Dare makes a show of pulling out my chair and helping me sit down at the table. Then he finally takes his place. He arches a brow as he looks at Remy.

“Are we waiting on Burn, then?”

Remy checks his watch and scowls.

“No, we aren’t waiting anymore.” He twists around in his seat, looking for the waiter. To my surprise, the waiter is someone I recognize. He dressed me down once in the back hallway of this very restaurant. I catch his eye and he looks a bit puzzled as he steps forward, clearing his throat.

“Can I help, sir?”

“Tell them to bring in all the food. I’m hungry.”

The waiter bows and turns, catching my eye again before vanishing toward the kitchen. I smooth my hand over the white linen tablecloth, taking the cloth napkin and pulling it into my lap. Dare catches my hand and laces his fingers through mine and puts our hands down on the table. Making a clear statement to anyone in the vicinity.

He swings his gaze over to Remy and picks up his glass of water. He takes a sip and then smiles.

“Is there a reason you called us here?” asks Remy.

Dare gives the ghost of a smile and shrugs a shoulder. “Let’s eat first. If Burn still doesn’t show up by the time we are finished, I can tell you our surprise.”

I sip, feeling heat rise to my cheeks. Dare clenches my hand and silently reminds me not to show everyone my every thought.

Remy levels a glare at Dare, looking at him as if brushing invisible dirt away.

“It’s your party, isn’t it?”

Platters of spit-roasted game hens, raised beef, and grilled salmon steaks are soon brought to the table by several food runners. Bowls of linguine with bolognese and gnocchi with pine nut pesto soon follow. There are small plates of pan roasted mushrooms and blanched asparagus. And finally there are overflowing baskets of warm, crusty slices of focaccia bread slid onto any place that there is space. The wineglass that was left by cousin Helen is soon swept away, replaced by a fresh glass of dark purple wine.

I glance at Dare and he lets my hand go, but he does lean over and kiss me. The brief press of his lips is over before I even know it. But I feel the eyes of Dare’s entire family on me as soon as he pulls away.

I busy myself taking a little salmon and pasta bolognese. I purposely keep my eyes on my plate, not looking up for long enough to catch anyone’s gaze.

Dare and Remy talk a little, Dare’s father leaning in and interjecting a few times. For the most part, everyone quickly seems to forget me, to my intense relief.

I don’t hold much interest in this particular group of wealthy, self centered people. I can’t do anything for them, and they lose focus on me very quickly.

But just when I start to relax, Burn and Daisy come in from the cold. Burn slides his arm around Daisy as they walk up to Remy, acting for all the world as though he is the only person here. Daisy sweeps her gaze over the table of twenty or so future relatives and smirks.

“Remy,” Burn says very casually. “I see you started without us.”

Remy scowls at Burn. “When I say one o’clock, I mean one o’clock.”

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