Page 32 of Dark Reign of Forever

She caressed his face with both hands, kissed both his cheeks three times each, then clutched him in a shaking, sobbing embrace no French person would allow themselves—unless the recipient had risen from the dead.

Dominique held her, breathed her familiar scent, and wondered how different her reaction might have been if she saw him as he truly was. Tears tracked down his cheeks and dripped into her hair. She felt fragile as a bird in his arms as she continued to shower him with kisses and endearments, along with her relief, her love, and her gratitude. She was reborn, she said. God had heard her prayers and answered them.

It was too much.

I’m not worthy of this, he thought, but found it impossible to let go of her.It is all a lie. I am the one who destroyed her life.

And now you’re making up for it by giving her a priceless gift, Cassidy replied. She stood behind him and to the side, her hand on the small of his back to strengthen the remnants of their connection.

Dominique closed his eyes and pulled as much strength and humanity as he could from Cassidy. “Maman,” he murmured. “How I have missed you.”

It took several minutes before she calmed enough to gather her shredded composure and let him go. Étienne greeted him with the traditional kisses, but also bestowed a quick, shoulder-slapping hug. “You dolt. We were all crazy with grief.”

At first, the words stuck in Dominique’s craw, but they came easier as he went along. Bit by bit, he fleshed out the scant details Cassidy had already shared with half-truths and allusions, but not an ounce of compulsion. Bit by bit, their doubts turned to amazement and then relief. He imagined that even Jackson, the master of spin, would have been impressed.

But where to from here? Thanks to Serge, they believed that, rather than asking for rescue with his surprise phone call, Dominique had invited them for a visit. He could not send them away without compelling them to forget they had ever been here. Two weeks ago, he would have done just that—or asked Serge to—but that was before he was seized by the possibility of reclaiming a small part of his lost life. The suppressant hadn’t delivered him the sun, but it had brought him something even more profound: his family.

Not only did he not send them away, he uncorked several bottles of wine and cooked them all dinner.

Étienne joined him in the kitchen and delighted in showing off his culinary skills. Or rather, showing them off to Samantha, who sat at the counter, spellbound by his every word and gesture. Dominique’s cousin was an endless fount of breathtaking flirtations for the blushing woman. And the teasing rejoinders he tossed at Dominique harkened back to the long summers the two had spent running wild around Étienne’s family estate outside Bordeaux.

Francesca’s confident, throaty laugh rang out often as she joined in with stories of her own about the family’s history, and shared happy recent events. Most notable of these was the news of Dominique’s older sister,Geneviève, who had been newlywed when he last saw her. “Frère préféré,” she used to call him, her “favorite brother,” despite her having only one brother. Close in age, they had grown up together, partners in childhood games and adolescent dramas, always each others’ confidante, protector, and biggest fan. It staggered him to think that she was now a mother herself to a baby girl of eighteen months. The doting grandmother had a phone full of pictures to show off, and Dominique dutifully admired his new niece, but not without a pang of regret. Thrilled as he was thatGenevièvewas moving on with her life, this child was a poignant reminder of how much he had truly lost.

Beside Francesca, Cassidy sat with a wineglass in hand and glowed with high spirits. Sensing his turn of mood, she stirred the conversation into new avenues.

Silently, he sent her his love and his thanks.

Their hands touched as he passed her on his way back to the stove. She looked up at him, eyes bright.I love you, husband of my soul, and I adore your family.

As the evening progressed, the years of darkness lost a little of their weight, and his regrets some of their sting. Reality as Dominique knew it faded into the background, supplanted by a dream of his former life. For this moment, at least. But then, with the past done and gone, and the future eternal and obscure, wasn’t the present moment all that really mattered?

He thought so—and he vowed to stretch it for as long as it would go.

Which was why, long after midnight, he offered his mother and cousin the two best guest rooms in the house and invited them to stay for as long as they wanted.

13

Drop-Ins

ForSamantha,thisentireday ranked near the top of her personal excitement scale, which was saying a lot for the half-sister of a vampire hunter living with vampires. Best of all, none of her current preoccupations had anything to do with the supernatural.

Well, so far anyway.

At the moment, her entire late afternoon yoga class groaned and huffed through the poses. They would all remember this session, if perhaps for slightly different reasons. The eight ladies were all devoted regulars, Samantha’s most advanced students. Both of the two males were drop-ins and claimed never to have done a day of yoga in their lives. Which did not, of course, stop them from trying to show off—to the women and to each other. The women didn’t mind, instructor included. Both men were the picture of vigor and health, even if somewhat less flexible than they might have imagined.

“Exhaling, come down,” Samantha directed. “Aaand child’s pose.”

“Thank you,” one of her long-time students said as she folded into a happy heap on her mat.

“Just trying to keep your mind on the work, Evelyn.”

This earned her several snorts and made her face tingle. Had she really just said that? Every one there would know what was distracting them—including the distractions.

“Mon Dieu,” one of the latter gasped. “You are a cruel mistress.”

“Just breathe,” she told Étienne, grateful she couldn’t see his eyes right now. Oh, those eyes! Every time she looked into them, it was like falling into a soft, warm pillow made of sky. That, plus the French accent and that dazzling smile, all packaged into the sun-bronzed physique of an Adonis who seemed to have fallen under her unwitting spell, and Samantha’s wits were all but scattered.

They had spent much of the day together, with her acting as his tour guide to the local attractions, while Cassidy doted on Francesca and made excuses for her son’s absence during the day. Étienne was an easy-going version of Dominique, charming and quick-witted, ruggedly beautiful and—most importantly—human. He was also the perfect gentleman, flirting without shame, but crossing no lines, even when Samantha fervently wished he would. In all of her thirty-one years, no man had ever gotten to her this hard, this fast.

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