Mist on the Meadow (32 page)

“The voice said his legacy was being
rescinded.” Marissa’s brow wrinkled.

“But he wasn’t a
Kundigerin
, or a
Kundiger,
or whatever . . .” Wolf rolled his eyes. “I don’t
understand any of this.”

Marissa squeezed his hand. “He was a Secret
Keeper.”

The Lichtensteiner Polka played in his head
again. Wolf winced and put his palms over his ears to block out the
music. “Marissa, I saw the crash again, but this time I was in the
car. How?”

“There’s something inside of you, was
something inside of you before today.” Tears spilled from her eyes.
“God, I wish Uncle Balt was here.”

He rose to his feet and crossed to the
kitchen window, searching for a shimmering apparition beside the
woods.

“Maybe there’s something in the journals,”
Marissa said.

“What journals?”

Marissa shrugged. “Uncle Balt kept a journal.
Or Hex can help.”

“Am I crazy? Because this is the furthest
from normal I’ve ever been.”

Marissa curled her hand in his. “No. Think of
yourself as enhanced.”

Electricity coursed through her, into him, as
if someone had turned on a switch. The two of them ought to be
glowing. His breath caught in his throat. He was turned on, all
right, and in that moment he didn’t care if he was crazy. He cast a
wary glance her direction. Marissa’s cheeks were flushed, and when
he closed his eyes, Wolf saw his desire mirrored inside her.

“I have to say, this is pretty cool,” he
said. “I feel so alive when I’m with you.”

Her touch triggered flashes of pain in his
jaw. “This bruise. What happened?” she asked.

“Sucker punched by Elliot. He’s locked up
now.” Wolf placed a hand on her abdomen. “It’s really there, right?
The baby? Our baby?” He didn’t wait for her to answer. Hungry for
another kiss, he slanted his lips over hers. “I’m not very good at
this. Marissa, you have to marry me. I don’t ever want this to end,
to stop feeling this way. I’ve never felt this way. Tell me you
feel it, too. Tell me you’ll marry me.”

She turned her head and for a moment, his
heart stopped. Wolf closed his eyes to concentrate on Marissa, to
draw on the reassuring pulse between them.

Not until he says it
. Wolf could see
her thoughts. He smiled. Hasty words left on her voicemail. He
didn’t blame her for doubting him. Once again, he’d bungled it. She
deserved hearts and flowers. He wrapped his hands around hers. “I
love you, Marissa. Marry me?”

She smirked. “I’m not sure I have a choice in
the matter.”

“And? Is that a bad thing?” He pressed kisses
to the corners of her mouth, her cheekbones, the tip of her nose.
He ached for the feel of her body molded against his, the taste of
her.

Marissa’s breath came in short gasps.

Wolf led her to the parlor, to the red velvet
sofa. “Move in,” he whispered in her ear. “Right now. I can help.”
He kissed her forehead, her eyebrows. “I want you in my bed. Now.
Tonight. Every night from now on. I want to wake up beside you
every morning.” Wolf closed his eyes. Heat pulsed through her,
flowing into him. When he opened his eyes, he smiled broadly. “Wow.
I can feel you, all around me.” He glanced over her shoulder to the
staircase, toward his bedroom. “Now?” His lips closed over hers and
he knew they weren’t going to make it to the bedroom, but he’d wait
for her. Wolf stared into her eyes. “You still haven’t answered
me.”

“But you know,” she said.

“Say it.” The same way she needed to hear the
words from him, he needed to hear her say yes.

Marissa giggled. “Then ask again.”

Wolf brushed a red curl off her face and
kissed her forehead. “Will you marry me?”

She nodded. “Yeah.”

He couldn’t take his eyes from her face. Wolf
stroked her cheek, looped another curl behind her ear. She was so
beautiful. She’d taken charge that first morning in the café and it
took all the control he possessed to wait for her to make the first
move again.

“So are you going to have your way with me or
not?” she asked, turning her face so her lips were an inch from
his.

It was a rhetorical question. “Is that what
you want?” He cocked an eyebrow.

“Right here. Right now.” She reached for his
pants and had his belt unfastened and his zipper down before he
could move.

Wolf lifted Marissa from the red velvet couch
to the floor in front of the hearth, while he made love to her body
one glorious inch at a time. She writhed and moaned beneath his
touch. Wolf gritted his teeth against the raw emotions and the
reckless abandon with which he poured his soul into her, drawing
from her in equal portions. She cried out his name and her voice
echoed inside his head. She drew him deeper inside until he was
sure there was nothing left of himself. A moment of clarity
reminded him that he hadn’t taken contraceptive precautions, and
then it hit him afresh. Marissa already carried his child. The
thrill pushed him over the brink.

Wolf dropped down beside her and trailed one
hand over her body. He cupped each breast in turn and stroked her
smooth skin. Eyes closed, he laid a hand across her abdomen once
more. Energy grew steadily inside of her.
His child
. Wolf’s
heart was near to bursting. They’d created a life.

Wolf stretched to kiss her and was surprised
when she wiped a tear from his eye.

“What’s this?” she asked.

“Wow.” Words were inadequate compared to the
connection they shared with a simple touch. Wolf covered her body
with his once more, waiting for an invitation to dive in again. She
reached down and guided him. As he slid into her once more, she
arched her back and gasped.

Wolf took her slow and easy this time,
relishing every sensation, every heartbeat, every conscious
thought. They were connected, both in body and in mind. Soft red
curls bounced around her head. Her brilliant sapphire eyes locked
onto his, shining a brilliant light on the dark corners of his
mind. If he was insane, they might as well commit him, because he
wasn’t interested in sanity anymore.

Marissa waited while Wolf unlocked her
apartment door. She needed a shower—and so did Wolf. The way he
made her heart flip, her womb jump, it was a struggle to think
about anything but the way their bodies fit together.

Hex bounded from chair to sofa to bed and
back around, chasing a catnip mouse while Marissa took inventory of
what to take with her to Harper Manor and what could wait.

Wolf stood behind her and circled her waist
with his hands. Judging by the bump against her hip, he was having
a hard time concentrating, too.

His voice, so close to her ear, sent shivers
all through her. “I’m hungry again.” He nipped at her earlobe.

She wondered if the energy between them would
ever diminish.

Wolf nuzzled against her hair and she turned
to face him. “Tell me I’m not imagining all this, that you feel it,
too.”

She had to laugh. “I feel it, too. We’re in
for a long night, but first—” She held up Uncle Balt’s journal.
“Can you read this?” If what she believed was true, he’d been
gifted with
Kundiger
status and should be able to translate
the German books. Then again, he might already know how to read
German.

Wolf took the book from her and blinked at
the page. “I don’t read German.” He squinted at the page and then
at Marissa. “Who’s Rosalie?”

“My grandmother.”

“This is German, right? Wolf shook his head.
“But I can read it. How?”

Marissa shrugged. “Same reason I can, I
imagine.”

Wolf looked at the cover of the journal. “So
is this like a
Kundigerin
guidebook or something?”

“Uncle Balt’s journal.” She took the book in
her hands. “All the while I was growing up, he told me I’d know
when he was coming for a visit because I’d see a stag and the world
would seem to stop. Whatever happened out there, with the stag,
maybe there will be something in the journal to explain. Uncle Balt
told me only the women held the power to know things. The men were
the secret keepers, but you’re different. Even before the
stag.”

He kissed her forehead and then her cheek,
“Maybe we’re two halves of broken sanity, because when we come
together . . .” His lips closed over hers, “it all makes
sense.”

Her body tingled, aching for his touch once
more, and there was no question about what he had in mind. “You
haven’t seen my bedroom yet,” she said, leading him toward it.

Their bodies molded together as if they’d
been custom made. The bedroom was irrelevant. Marissa envisioned
christening every room in Harper Manor, Wolf’s Mercedes, it didn’t
matter. She could spend all day and all night making love to Wolf
Harper, anywhere she could have him.

Wolf drifted to sleep after his second shot.
While Marissa spooned in front of him, she stared at Hex, who sat
like a sphinx on her bedside chair. He chirped and rose to his
feet.

“You’re hungry, aren’t you, buddy?” she
whispered. She slipped out from under Wolf’s arm and padded into
the kitchen.

The apartment was dark with the approach of
nightfall. A glance at the clock showed a few minutes before six
o’clock. Marissa scooped out half a can of tuna for the cat before
the bile rose in her throat. She barely had time to set the bowl on
the floor before she heaved into the kitchen sink. When she raised
her head, Wolf handed her a warm washcloth.

“Did I wake you?” she asked.

He pulled a glass from the windowpane
cupboards and filled it with water. “I wasn’t sleeping.” He winked
at her. He nodded toward the sink. “Is this because of the baby? Or
is something else wrong?”

Marissa slid down to the cool tile floor.
“Pretty sure it’s the baby, but with all that’s happened today, who
knows?”

Wolf crouched down beside her. “We should
stay here tonight, where you’re comfortable. I can make you dinner,
or order something in. Whatever you want.” He smoothed a curl off
her damp forehead.

Hex walked away from his food bowl and
circled them. His curling tail stroked them with each pass. Marissa
counted—once, twice and on the third completed circle a shimmering
silver thread hovered around them. Wolf fell back on his heels.

“What the hell?”

Marissa watched with fascination. “I read
something about this in the journal. Rosalie told Uncle Balt the
thread represented the bonds of matrimony.”

“So now we’re tied together?”

Marissa laughed. “Isn’t that what you
wanted?” The thread dissolved into the air.

Wolf waved a hand where the thread had been.
“Damnedest thing.”

* * *

While Wolf finished washing the dishes, Hex
wound around his legs. Damn cat. With his luck, the cat was weaving
another of his magic pieces of yarn Wolf would fall flat on his
face with his next step. To be sure, he checked, before he moved
away from the sink.

He crossed to the bedroom and looked in on
Marissa. She was sound asleep. Sleep wouldn’t come so easily for
him, but he wasn’t about to leave Marissa and he wouldn’t wake her.
She needed rest. The baby needed rest.

Wolf scanned the apartment and saw the
journal on the end table. Was it a
Kundigerin
handbook? Wolf
looked for the cat and saw the feline shadow jump onto the bed with
Marissa.

“Take care of my lady,” he whispered to the
cat. “I’ll watch the front door.”

He sat on the sofa, worried about how sick
Marissa had gotten. Was that normal with pregnancy? He’d heard of
morning sickness, but didn’t that happen in the morning? Tomorrow
they’d have to talk about all the normal things, like if she’d been
to a doctor yet, and what kind of wedding she wanted.

He was getting married. A smile raised the
corners of his mouth. Life with Marissa promised not to be dull.
But what was this crazy ‘gift’ they had?

Wolf picked up the journal and thumbed the
edges of the pages. He sat on the sofa and began to read. German.
Who knew?

The entries took on a more desperate tone,
with Rosalie accused of witchcraft and forced from her home.
Rosalie’s life, documented by Uncle Balt.

Wolf rubbed his eyes and squinted in the
dimly lit room, struggling to focus on the cryptic writing.

Together, you possess great power.

Wolf didn’t know where the voice came from.
It didn’t matter. He gave up the battle to keep his eyes open.

The alarm hadn’t sounded, but Marissa’s body
clock was set to wake up. She cast a glance at the untouched pillow
beside her. Had she dreamt Wolf’s proposal?

The queasiness sent her running to the
bathroom. If the morning sickness was already this bad, it was
going to be a long pregnancy. She washed her face and wandered to
the kitchen for a glass of water.

Wolf was wedged into the corner of the sofa,
Uncle Balt’s journal in his hand. His lips were parted and his eyes
were shut. Her first reaction was to snuggle up beside him, but she
still had a café to run, and nausea to quell.

Marissa dropped an English muffin into the
toaster.

Half an hour later, Wolf was still sleeping
when she gathered her purse and keys. Marissa contemplated a kiss
goodbye, but if the last twenty-four hours were any indication, a
kiss would more likely detain her. Sundays were busy coffee cake
days. Marissa left a note for Wolf to make himself at home and
headed to work.

Angela pulled into
Mangela’s
parking
lot at the same time Marissa did. Bundled up against the pre-dawn
cold, they didn’t speak until they stepped inside the café.

“You feeling better?” Angela asked while she
hung up her coat and donned her apron.

“Yeah.”

“I stopped by your apartment after work.”

Marissa rolled her eyes. “I completely
forgot. I’m so sorry.” But she couldn’t suppress the smile. “I had
something I needed to take care of.”