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Authors: Kristen Painter

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BOOK: All Fired Up
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Chapter Twenty-three

 

Vincentius grinned, despite the foolishness of what Alrik was about to do. There was no talking the headstrong Viking out of it anyway. And part of the Roman enjoyed seeing this great chieftain as nervous as a gladiator awaiting his fate in the arena.

The late-spring sun warmed the morning considerably. It would be a good day and for that Vincentius was glad. The man beside him deserved this day to be good. He had waited long enough and known too much hurt.

Strains of a fiddle drifted through the rose-scented air. The Roman took his eyes off his friend and turned. For a moment, he imagined he saw a goddess, but he knew better. The woman in white smiling at his friend was far more beautiful and far more kind.

 

Calleigh stood at the head of the aisle, each arm looped through one of her uncles’ arms. She glanced heavenward, hoping her parents could see how happy she was.

Her aunt and uncle’s backyard looked like a rose explosion. It was breathtaking. But not as breathtaking as the man waiting for her in front of the bloom-covered arbor.

She took her first step down the petal-strewn aisle as the small assembly of guests stood, but Alrik was the only person she saw. That he had worn a tux for her almost made her weep. Almost. She refused to ruin her fabulous makeup before the rest of the pictures had been taken.

The glint of moisture in his eyes belied the serious set of his jaw. She guessed she was not the only one struggling to hold back tears.

Heavens above, she loved this man. All the hustle and bustle of planning the small ceremony disappeared and the moment she’d been focused on these last two months was finally here.

Seamus and Corri took their turns kissing her cheeks before Corri placed her hand in Alrik’s. The strength of his grip eased her nerves. She wondered if he could feel her shaking.

He smiled hesitantly, his voice a whisper. “You look beautiful.”

“So do you,” she answered back. And he did. Viking or not, he looked born for black and white. She couldn’t wait to give him his gift. She hoped he would be impressed with her research.

“I love you,” she added.

His smile grew a little brighter. They turned together and faced the priest.

"Dearly beloved, we gather here today in the sight of God, and before all of you, to join together this man and this woman in holy matrimony."
He lead them through their vows then nodded at Calleigh that is was time.

She tried to contain her grin but the secret she’d planned was just too good. She bent to retrieve what she’d earlier hidden behind the massive arbor of roses.

She slid the intricately carved sword from its sheath and swung the rune-etched blade up over her head to present it to Alrik.

At the flash of sun on metal, his eyes went wide. He swore under his breath in a language she didn’t understand and fisted his hands.

Vincentius grabbed Alrik’s arm. “She is trying to gift you the sword, not slay you with it.”

Calleigh nodded frantically at her husband-to-be. “It’s a gift, that’s all, I swear.”

Relaxing his hands, Alrik took a deep breath. He eyed the sword, met Calleigh’s gaze, then stared at the sword again.

“It’s traditional, isn’t it? The exchange of swords? I just wanted to give you something to make you feel…at home.” She waited, watching his expression. Maybe this wasn’t such a hot idea.

“You purchased this blade for me?”

“Yes. I read about Vik—” she caught herself, “—Norse wedding customs online and I just wanted to do something special for you.”

A small grin broke across his face and he took the sword from her, testing the weight in his hands. “This is a fine sword.”

“Look here,” she pointed, “on the blade. I had it engraved. I hope it’s right.”


Ast og trygd eilift
.” He paused, the smile softening with emotion.

“Love and loyalty forever,” he translated. He stared at the sword, shaking his head as though he didn’t believe what he was seeing.

“I have no words for how this makes me feel.” His smile faded entirely. “And I have no sword for you.”

She shrugged. “I’m good. Really. It’s harder to dance with a sword strapped to you than you’d think.”

She handed him the scabbard and he tucked the blade away before handing it to Vincentius.

“You are an amazing woman, Calleigh McCarthy,” Alrik said.

He looked at the priest. “How much longer before this woman is my wife?”

The priest smiled, a twinkle in his eye. “Patience, my son. You’re only moments away from wedded bliss, but your eagerness is certainly appreciated.”

A few muffled laughs sounded from the gathered crowd.

“Do you have the rings?” the priest asked.

Calleigh turned to Bridget as Vincentius handed something to Alrik. They held the rings out in unison.

The priest nodded. “These
unbroken circle
s are a symbol of your
love with no beginning or end.
With the exchange of these rings, you
both give and receive this love freely and equally. May these rings serve as a lifelong symbol and reminder of the wedding vows taken and the promises therein. You may exchange your rings.”

Utter joy filled Calleigh as Alrik slid the shining band of gold over her finger. Her hands shook as she placed his on his hand. Married. They were well and truly married.

The priest’s smile never wavered. “By the authority of God and the state of New York, I pronounce you husband and wife. Son, you may now kiss your bride.”

Alrik threaded his hands into her curls and kissed her long and hard. The crowd whooped and shouts of
Sláinte
rang out. An Irish fiddle started a lively jig as they began their way down the aisle as man and wife.

The small crowd clapped and rang small brass bells. They followed Alrik and Calleigh to the reception area set up on the brick patio.

Moreen made it to Calleigh first. With tears in her eyes, she hugged her niece. “If yer mother was here she’d tell you how beautiful you look. I’m so happy for you, lass. You deserve this.”

“Thanks, Aunt Moreen.” Calleigh wanted to say more but her voice cracked. Moreen nodded in understanding and patted her cheek.

“Don’t make the lass cry, Moreen. Seamus is waitin’ on them to finish their pictures.” Corri’s eyes looked suspiciously moist. He took a turn hugging Calleigh, then clapped Alrik hard-on the shoulder. “Welcome to the family, lad.”

Alrik bowed his head slightly and nodded his thanks, never once letting go of Calleigh’s hand.

Corri faced the guests assembled in his yard. “After these two get their photos done, we’ll have a blessing and eat some of this wonderful food you all helped to prepare. And don’t hesitate to drink up. Seamus is footin’ the bar bill.” The crowd laughed and Corrigan looked as proud as if Calleigh were his own daughter.

Several rolls of film later, Calleigh and Alrik stood beneath one of the large oaks getting ready for their final shot.

“We’re married,” she whispered in his ear.

He laughed. “I know. I was right beside you.”

“I can’t help it. I want to tell everyone.”

“I am certain everyone here is aware we are married.” He kissed her nose. “But you may announce it as much as you like if it keeps a smile on that beautiful mouth.”

She leaned over, unable to control herself. “Ask me what my name is.”

Alrik’s brows knit together. “Why would I do that? I know what your name is.”

She punched him lightly in the arm. “Ask me!”

“Is that an order?”

She punched him again, this time a little harder.

“I should have known the abuse would start once the ring was on your finger.” He laughed and rolled his eyes. “What is your name, fair eyes?”

A wicked grin curved her lips. “Mrs. Alrik Gunn, pleased to meet you.”

“I swear, Mrs. Gunn, you may be the silliest woman I have ever known.” He grabbed her around the waist and kissed her again.

With Badu at his elbow, Seamus popped up over his camera. “Any time today you two want to finish this is fine with me. It’s not like I have Guinness to drink or anything.”

Badu nudged him. “Leave them be. That is what love does to a person.”

Seamus grinned. “I’ll show you what else love does to a person when we get home.”

Badu laughed as Vincentius rushed up, a serious look on his face.

Alrik glanced to his friend. “Is something wrong?”

The Roman shook his head but kept his voice low when he spoke. “Sorry to interrupt but I have to go.”

He clasped Alrik’s wrist. “Blessings to both of you. Be well, brother.”

“Aye, brother, and you as well.” Alrik clasped the Roman’s wrist in farewell.

Calleigh laid her hand atop both of theirs and shook her head. “You can’t go yet. The party’s barely begun. Besides, I think my friend Erika likes you.”

Flames glittered in Vincentius’ eyes. “I have no choice. My talisman has just been found.”

Epilogue

 

“Would you like a glass of champagne, orange juice or a mimosa before we take off?” The flight attendant smiled as she held out a tray of glasses.

“Orange juice would be great, thanks.” Calleigh helped herself and Alrik did the same.

The flight attendant moved on to the next row of first class passengers. Calleigh set her juice down on the wide armrest between her and her Viking.

She squeezed his arm. “Can you believe it? A honeymoon in Japan. We’re going to have so much fun. I think you’ll like Japan. They’re really into swords over there.”

Alrik set his juice down beside hers and smiled wickedly. “I believe I will be too busy with
other
things to spend much time thinking about swords.”

Seamus looked over the seat in front of them. “I’d like to remind you that the first half of this trip is about work, not pleasure. We have a campaign to shoot.”

From the seat next to him, Badu patted his arm. “And I would like to remind you that the last half of this trip will have
nothing
to do with work. Now leave the lovebirds to coo over one another and tell me again why I agreed to come with you?”

“Because you can’t get enough of me? Or is it because I’m irresistible? Or maybe it’s my charming good looks?” Seamus blew her a kiss and sat down.

Alrik groaned under his breath and leaned closer to Calleigh. “I lied. I am thinking about swords very much right now.”

She slid her hand up his arm to cup his face in her palm. She drew him closer and nibbled on his bottom lip before giving him her best naughty smile. “I’ll just have to give you something else to think about then, won’t I?”

About Kristen Painter

 

Kristen Painter resides on the Spacecoast of Florida with her retired Air Force hubby and three feline dependents. Her writing has explored many genres—poetry, non-fiction, short stories, and now fun paranormals, quirky young adult or dark & twisty urban fantasy. Her work has been seen in Sun magazine, Cosmopolitan, and the Romance Writers Report. A two-time Golden Heart finalist, she’s also the co-founder of the award winning site, Romance Divas, and the past vice president and webmaster of two RWA chapters, Chesapeake Romance Writers (CRW) and SpacecoasT Authors of Romance (STAR) and the current President of ESPAN. She’s represented by The Knight Agency.

Love haunts…

 

Another Time Around

© 2009 Catherine Wade

 

Brin Maxwell once lived the ultimate rock-n-roll fantasy as the wife of the frontman for Hell’s Fury. It all ended in a flash—literally—with a lightning bolt that took Max’s life and left hers in suspended animation.

Two years later she’s ready to move on, but there’s a stumbling block: her sanity. Max’s ghost has decided to haunt her, and he’s got a bad habit of showing up at the most inconvenient moments. Like when she’s about to plant a long wet one on event planner David Lyle, the man she hopes will resurrect her love life.

David is real, solid, and makes her heart do the tango. He’s also curiously inept at his job—yet he has certain other talents that leave her wondering just what he’s hiding in his shadowy past.

Then there are the death threats. As they escalate from notes slipped under her door to full-scale, Kodak-moment terror, Brin realizes Max’s return is no coincidence. And that the only one she can turn to is David.

The man with the skills to save her life—unless he’s there to take it…

Warning: Contains strong language, violence, bad fake accents, and a fearless dog. May cause an overwhelming desire to put a lock on your underwear drawer.

 

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Another Time Around:

“Do you always ask so many questions?”

“I warned you. I’m solving your mysteries.” David looked up at her and smiled, his hands working independently to split a vanilla bean and drop it into the cream. “I’m a curious person. If it annoys you, just say so.”

“It doesn’t exactly annoy me.” But she was still hesitant. “I guess I did tell you that if you had any questions to just ask.”

David winked. “I guess you didn’t expect me to take you so literally, did you?”

Brin sighed softly and smiled. What was her problem, anyway? Why the hell was she running so damned hot and cold? “That’s okay. But let’s talk about you for a while.”

“Fair enough. Quid pro quo.”

“Something like that. Hank tells me you were once a cop.”

David nearly scalded himself with hot cream. “Wow. And I thought I was the one with all the sources.”

“Didn’t I tell you that Hank’s really a spy? The FBI’s been trying to recruit him for years, but he’s holding out for the
New York Times
gossip-columnist spot.” Brin looked him over. “From your reaction, I take it that being a cop wasn’t the most pleasant experience of your life.”

He shook his head, going back to the cream. “Nah, nothing like that. It’s just that not many people in New York know about it.”

“Maybe because you ask too many questions and don’t answer any.”

David stopped stirring the cream long enough to return her grin. “Touché.”

He pulled the bananas out of the oven and the aroma hit Brin’s nose. Despite being full of steak and umpteen tons of bread, she was ravenous. “Man, that smells good.”

“Told you it’d get better.” He walked around to the table and pulled out the chair for her. “We’ll eat and I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”

He sat beside her as she took her first bite. It was like banana heaven. “Oh my God, this is fabulous,” she mumbled around the flaky pastry.

“I’m glad you like it.” He made a sweeping bow even as he sat. “So quid pro quo, then? Shoot.”

Brin looked him over as she nibbled on a tender banana. Why start being delicate now? “Tell me about being a cop.”

He dug into his own plate and chewed thoughtfully. “I was on the force once upon a lifetime. Down in Arlington, Virginia.”

“Nice town. What made you leave it? And what made a cop turn into a party planner?”

“Event planner,” David corrected with a crooked grin.

“Sorry.
Event
planner.”

David flashed a smile that made her toes curl. “I see I’m not the only one solving mysteries here. Why beat around the bush when you can burn straight through it, right?”

“Right.”

His gaze shifted and he put down his fork. He laced his fingers and drew a breath. “I’d been on the force for about ten years when I was assigned a new partner. She was straight out of the academy, but she knew what she was doing. A good cop. A good friend.”

Brin chewed slowly, letting his intensity settle over her. “What happened?”

“There was an incident. There had been a break-in. Two perps. I went after one, my partner went after the other. I got my guy, but the other pulled a gun on my partner. Or so it seemed at the time. Turned out he was trying to empty his pockets of the drugs he had on him. In the end, my partner went down for shooting an unarmed suspect.”

She felt a sudden urge to reach out to him, but resisted it. “Did they think—I mean, were you—”

“Implicated? No. I was a block away at the time.” He took another bite of his tart, taking out his frustration while he chewed. “But after that I just couldn’t be a cop anymore. I needed out.”

Brin swallowed hard. “So you came here.”

He nodded. “There wasn’t much to stay in Virginia for. My partner was gone. Reputations were ruined. It would never be the same for me and I knew it.”

Brin swallowed again, trying to get rid of the lump that was lodged in her throat. “Was the guy killed?”

“The suspect? Yeah.” David focused on his plate again.

Way to step on a landmine, Brin.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pried.”

David shrugged and smiled. “Well, like you said, when in Rome…”

She closed her eyes and allowed herself a small chuckle. Opening them again, she saw him staring at her. His eyes shimmered with intensity. Her body tingled and her belly did a flip-flop. She tried to smile and jolted out of her seat. “I’m sorry, but I really must use the powder room—”

“Of course.” David rose and pointed across the room. “Just through that door.”

She made her way across the generous space, ending up where the high ceiling gave way to the loft. She could only assume she was directly under his bedroom, but refused to let her mind wander further than that. In front of her were two doors beside one another. She looked back at David for guidance, but he was busy clearing the table. Taking a chance, she picked the door on the right.

When she entered the room, she searched for the light switch. She flipped it on, and was bathed in a glowing red light. Adjusting her eyes, she looked around to find photographs hanging from wires strung like clotheslines across the room. Some photos were of people, some of places and buildings. All seemed very artistic, though she’d be the first to admit she knew nothing about art.

A framed picture hung on the far wall drew her attention. It grabbed her and made her step closer and closer until she was standing right at the base of it. It was a close-up of a woman’s jawline, warm and dewy and glowing red in the light from the bare bulb that swung above it. Her lips were full and wet, barely parted to reveal a row of sparkling teeth. Though she couldn’t see her entire face, Brin could tell she was an extremely beautiful woman.

“You found Claudia.”

Brin jumped, startled by David’s entrance. “I’m sorry. I must have taken a wrong turn.”

“Quite all right. Easy to do.”

She pointed around the room. “I take it you’re a photographer.”

“Picked up the hobby at the academy. When we were training in forensic photography.”

“I take it you never went digital.”

David shook his head. “Nah. Film is much more vibrant to me. More personal.” He stepped up behind her to look at the photograph. “I took that while we were on vacation in Cabo.”

“Who is she?”

David grew very still. “Claudia Moran. She was my partner on the force in Virginia. The one I was telling you about.”

Brin’s mouth went dry. “Oh God. I’m sorry. I had no idea your partner was a woman.” She looked at the photograph again and noticed the raw emotion of it. “Were you…involved with her?”

“Yes.” He didn’t even bother to hedge. “We were very much in love once.”

“But this picture…” She turned back to it and saw it with a new appreciation. “You keep this picture up to remind you of her.”

He shook his head, moving between Brin and the photograph. “No. I keep it around to show me that I have a talent for art. To remind me that there are other things in life besides waste and crime and ugliness. I keep it because it stirs something in me and because it’s hard in my line of work to remember that I have an emotion other than disgust.”

Brin swallowed hard. She hadn’t seen this side of David before, and part of her wanted to turn around and run out of the place as fast as she could. But she was frozen to the spot. Only frozen wasn’t the word that was coming to her mind. It was heat. Blazing heat.

“Disgust?” she asked, her voice a mere whisper. “Planning parties?”

David’s eyes shifted suddenly. A smile came to his face, but Brin knew it was forced. And it made her heart pound.

“I simply meant the extravagance of it. Rich people will throw money at a cause, but it has to make them look good. They want their names on plaques acknowledging their supposed generosity. They don’t want to help. They want to be looked upon as benefactors.”

Brin had to swallow again. “Not all of them—us—are like that.”

David’s gaze fell, but it didn’t seem to break the tension. “No, you’re not. That’s not what I meant.” He brought his eyes to catch hers in a relentless hold. She just stared back, unable to even blink. “You’re different, aren’t you? You’re soft around the edges. Caring. You have a passion in your soul, but it seems to be dying.”

He reached up and brushed her cheek with his rough palm, making her shiver. The chill ran down her spine and up again, and her knees went weak. Parts of her she’d thought would never stir again went wild as his hand wound in her hair. Soon his lips were millimeters away from hers.

“Why is that fire dying, Brin? What could put a damper on that passion? And what could fuel it?”

Her eyes closed, but she had no control over her own body anymore. She was completely on autopilot. Baser instincts had taken over, and she was at his mercy now.

BOOK: All Fired Up
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