“Ryce! You told? I wanted to tell him.” Annali made a face at her High Priest. “You spoiled my surprise.”
“Regardless of who mentioned it, I haven’t got any of the juicy details. Let’s get going and I promise to hang on your every word.”
Hunter laid a hand on her waist and guided her out of the parlor to the front door. Ryce helped Anna into a beautiful sable faux, making sure she was snug against the cold night, and Hunter grasped the handle of the large, ornately carved oak door.
He pulled it open, thoroughly surprised when a woman stumbled into him.
Chapter Three
Tatyana had braced a hand on the door just for a moment in order to pull a painful twig from the instep of her sneaker when it gave way under her weight. Since she’d tested it for sturdiness beforehand, she was taken completely by surprise. She stumbled backward over the threshold, crashing into something solid and blessedly warm. The contrast in temperatures caused a violent series of shivers to set in straight away. She was so numb from cold she was frankly startled to find her body able to react at all.
Then again, she wasn’t so numb that she couldn’t feel a pair of very strong, very large hands grasping her by her breasts as she was caught up against that cozy physical warmth. Male warmth, she realized, to go with male hands cradling her intimately. Intimate enough to make her blush and scuffle in a quick effort to get her feet under her. He helped her with a firm, decisive resettling of her weight and his hands slid down to the more neutral territory of her waist, where they stayed to steady her.
Flustered and embarrassed, she whipped around in a nearly military about-face, the action doing nothing to shed the hands that simply slid around the silk of her cocktail dress. By the time she was looking up into his face, she was quite snugly held in his hands and very nearly against his body.
Tatyana opened her mouth to excuse herself, but the words all died pitiful little deaths in the back of her throat, a tragic mass suicide of vowels and consonants from which she might never recover. All of this because she’d looked up into the very bluest and most outrageously beautiful eyes she’d ever seen. Skies and oceans were never this perfectly blue, she marveled in awe. Only an artist’s tube of brilliant cerulean could ever come close. Fringed by blacker than black lashes and rakish spikes of pitch colored hair hanging around them here and there, those eyes were far too perfect for actual words.
It went downhill from there. Or was it uphill? More likely the whole damn roller coaster, she thought. Suntanned and windburned skin that dashed ruggedness onto what otherwise would have been boyishly handsome features, and a squared-off jaw that would have done Superman proud. Incongruous with the bravado of rough good looks, there was the lightest splash of freckles over the bridge of his nose, no doubt a result of all the wind and sun he clearly spent time in. However, the sight was enough to break her silence, and she finally managed to make sounds.
Giggles.
Oh, wow, now there’s something to be remembered for, she thought with an agonized internal groan. There he was, Mr. Hotter-Than-Hot and she ...
Giggling, shivering, and swept up in the embrace of a striking male stranger, Tatyana officially brought a close to her dreadful week by appearing as a loony bin escapee to Mr. HTH and all the rest of the family of her brother’s girlfriend. Or at least she assumed they were her family. Hellation, she hoped she’d stumbled into the right house.
You know what, I’m just going to work on that theory and go from there, she thought decisively. The truth was, she knew nothing about her brother’s new ‘family’ as he was wont to call it. Could be because she didn’t listen very well after he made remarks like that, her head buzzing jealously and her mental foot stamping on the ground as she whined internally. She was his family. She and his cornucopia of other siblings. Their parents. Their aunts and uncles. What the heck did he need a new one for?
She always got over it within a minute or two. Mainly because he sounded so damn happy. That and she’d spoken to Annali on the phone a couple of times and had found it super hard to hate her guts. Especially since she was making Dimitre deliriously happier than Tatyana had heard him sound in a long time. Plus, Annali had to go and be all sweet and kind and, according to report, owned three pairs of the cutest Christian Louboutin shoes ever sold.
Hunter watched with amazement and fascination as the half-frozen redhead slapped a hand over her mouth to stop herself from giggling. She was only partially successful; the giggles escaped her nose in short little snorts of mirth. She was also shaking harder by the second. Her eyes, a pale, pale jade that reminded him of a cat’s, were wide with shock and mortification. Her skin was starkly white from the cold, but embarrassment appeared in a pair of pink spots on her cheeks.
In spite of this less-than-stellar face-to-face introduction, Hunter was astonished by how exceedingly attractive she was. Her dark, deep red hair had highlights of copper and mahogany, the length undetermined because it was tightly knotted into an intricate coiffure. She had huge eyes with fringes of red-brown lashes; perfect porcelain skin with drifts of freckles sweeping back like light, spotted angel’s wings over the rises of her cheeks. Her swept-back hair revealed the cutest ears to go with an equally adorable nose and chin. In contradiction, her sophistication came from outstanding cheekbones, a wide forehead with its distinctive widow’s peak hairline, and a stunning mouth he’d noted before she’d hidden it away, with plush, berry-red lips that begged for all kinds of kissing.
Damned if that wasn’t the most outrageous thought he’d ever had in his life, Hunter mused as he finally galvanized himself into action. Reaching down, he swept up the stranger in both arms, using his foot to kick the door shut. Ryce and Annali were already following him as he tried to remember where he’d seen a fire.
“Main front parlor,” Ryce reminded him.
Hunter turned to go, aware that Annali was hurrying away toward the conservatory. Meanwhile, he and Ryce rushed the freezing woman into the parlor. Hunter didn’t bother with furniture. He took a knee right in front of the fire and settled her down on the rug while Ryce went to work stoking the blaze good and hot. He reached to yank a blanket from a nearby basket and covered her with it from the waist down, wrapping up her mostly bare legs as snugly as he could. Then he reached for her icy hands and began to rub them vigorously one at a time. When Ryce was done at the fire, he left to fetch more blankets and anything else he could think of to help.
“You’re frozen half through,” Hunter murmured. “I don’t know how you even found this house, sweetheart, but you’re damn lucky you did.”
“I-I s-saw t-t-t-the l-lights...” she managed to stutter through chattering teeth.
Tatyana watched the stranger frown with puzzlement at that, and she couldn’t make sense of his reaction. She decided to just be grateful that she was finally beneath a roof and getting warm. It felt as though warmth would take forever, but it was nice to know it was on its way. Just then the door to the room opened and a striking woman in violet came in bearing a small silver tray. With the ease of a serving geisha, she knelt smoothly beside Tatyana without so much as tilting the tray she held. A good thing, too, because there was a steaming cup in its center.
“Some tea,” she offered, perpetuating the geisha-like image by picking up the cup in both hands and offering it to her as if it held blessings within it.
Tatyana laughed off the strange poetic bent of her thoughts. She’d been indulging in a lot of fancy since she’d stumbled into this house. She put it down to exposure-induced hallucinations and sat up to accept the cup with the help of a strong male hand at her back.
“Sip carefully, but make sure to drink it all,” he urged her in a gentle tenor that was both coaxing and soothing. The woman in violet smiled in easy agreement.
His free hand closed over Tatyana’s, helping her steady the cup in her trembling hand. Her heart, which had been racing ever since she’d realized her car wasn’t going to behave itself, finally began to ease as she
looked at the kind and concerned faces of these strangers. Yes, she told herself. This most certainly had to be her brother’s new family. He’d spoken of them with nothing but respect and praise.
The second male returned when she was halfway through her cup of tea, draping a luxurious comforter of down over her lap and a warmer shawl over her back.
“Thank you,” she said when she was certain she could speak without her teeth chattering. “You’re all very kind.”
“But of course,” the male with a distinct British accent said magnanimously.
“You poor thing, you must’ve been walking out in that cold a very long time! And in nothing but silk and lace. They make us beautiful, sugar, but they’re about as effective against the cold as huddling over a burnt match.”
The pretty blonde tsked under her tongue. Her Southern accent lilted gracefully in her speech, and Tatyana instantly knew that she was Annali Templeton. This beautiful stranger, with her pansy colored eyes and the highly refined features and manners of a perfect lady, was the woman her brother was in love with. Tatyana was astounded as she glanced around the room and took in the furnishings and artwork, realizing that this was a very wealthy household. All three of them were dressed elegantly, a casual sophistication that unmistakably came easily to them. It wasn’t that her brother wouldn’t belong in this type of environment; after all, he was a university professor with intelligence and sophistication of his own. It was just that Dimitre had never seemed the type to go for a cool, blond socialite. But then again, Tatyana needed to reconcile this sophisticate with the warm, bright personality she had made contact with over the phone those few, brief times. The concern and sympathy radiating from her was quite genuine. It would be just like Dimi to see beyond the surface to something special.
“I’m so sorry to be inconveniencing you all,” she said, suddenly feeling embarrassed by all of their attention and the way they were putting themselves out for her benefit. She hadn’t even introduced herself and she wasn’t really even supposed to be there. Dimitre was going to pitch a fit as it was. Tatyana moved to get to her feet, but hands reached out from everywhere to keep her seated on the floor and to keep the cup of tea in her hands.
“You’re no inconvenience,” said the male who had initially caught her, his warm fingers reaching out to sweep an errant strand of her hair from her cheek. He gave her a smile that was just as warm and comforting as his touch, making her feel as though he were wrapping his goodwill around her. A strange sense of protection and security shimmered through her awareness. She shivered, but this time it was because of the odd sensation of sanctuary this stranger seemed to settle over her, not because of the cold.
“I’m Annali Templeton,” Annali introduced herself as she urged Tatyana to drink more tea. “This is Hunter Finn and behind you is Ryce Champion. You couldn’t have found your way to a safer place, I assure you. Now drink. Relax. When you are well-warmed you’ll join us for dinner.”
“Oh, but I—”
“Ah, but you see, our Annali doesn’t hear arguments,” Ryce teased. “She is quite stubborn and will have her way. The hour is late and surely you’re hungry after your chilly adventures tonight. So there’s no sense arguing, really.”
“What my pushy friends are trying to say is that they are used to getting their way in things and won’t take ‘no’ for an answer,” Hunter explained gently in her ear. “For that matter, neither will I.”
Tatyana caught her breath as she looked into those vivid blue eyes. He was so near to her now she could feel the gentle waves of his breaths against her cheek, bathing her in warmth and the scent of mint, as though he’d recently brushed his teeth. She flushed, feeling her cheeks turn rosy with heat, but she couldn’t make herself look away from that bold gaze no matter how much she thought she needed to. If he kept looking at her like that, all hot and gorgeous as he was, she’d be saying yes to all kinds of things he wasn’t even asking. What woman in her right mind could ever say no to Hunter Finn, he of the devastating eyes?
Certainly not her.
“I’m Tatyana Petrova,” she said at last, her name rushing out breathily.
Chapter Four
“Tatyana!”
“Did she say Petrova?” Ryce asked quickly. Apparently needlessly as well, if the look on Annali’s face was anything to judge from. The female witch had gone extraordinarily pale.
“Yes, I did,” Tatyana said quietly but firmly. “And if you don’t mind, I would like to see my brother. I am very sorry to intrude on your New Year’s, and I won’t keep you any longer. If you could just call Dimitre here ...”
Annali’s heart was pounding violently with anxiety. She was suddenly in the presence of Dimitre’s most-beloved sibling out of a total of twelve brothers and sisters. He and his youngest sister were best friends, as she had heard it, confidants who adored one another. Despite brief phone conversations, Annali was essentially meeting Tatyana for the first time. Tatyana was, in fact, the very first family member of Dimitre’s she had ever met. Dimitre and Annali had known each other only two months, and it had taken only a little over a week for the couple to realize they were destined to love one another. However, until now, they had remained isolated from Dimitre’s family. For Annali, meeting Tatyana was the equivalent of meeting the President of the United States. She absolutely, positively could not screw up.
But of course, this encounter was already a disaster in the making. Annali knew full well Dimitre was going to be furious when he found out Tatyana was there. He had purposely tried to keep her away for her own protection. But how was Tatyana supposed to know that? She didn’t know her brother was a witch! She didn’t know his coven was under threat from evil. Hell, his sister didn’t even know there was any such thing as magic.
To make matters worse, Dimitre wasn’t even at Willow House. He had gone away and had seen no reason to call Tatyana and tell her. Annali had admonished him for it because it was out of character for him not to share that kind of information with Tatyana, but he simply had not wanted to deal with the hassle of explaining who their fellow witch Kaia was and why he would need to attend a doctor’s lectures with her. He couldn’t out-and-out lie to Tatyana, after all.
And that was the final problem.
Annali was keeping a sworn secret from her High Priest and coven mates. Dimitre had pleaded with her for silence, and out of love for him, she had promised it ... on a conditional basis. She had sworn to give him time to come clean about Tatyana with Ryce when he was ready. More importantly, he needed to come clean with Tatyana ... for a multitude of reasons.
It was an untenable position to be in, and she was furious with Dimitre for it, but she had made her choices and would have to bear up to the responsibility of them. Not now, but as soon as she could, she would have to tell Ryce and Hunter about Tatyana. But first, she needed to deal with Tatyana.
“Actually,” she spoke up at last, trying to clear out the uneasiness in her throat, “Dimitre isn’t here. One of our housemates had some traveling to do and he accompanied her last minute to help her out.”
“He isn’t ... ?” There was a pause as she digested the information. “But he would have called me.” Everyone could hear the blatant mistrust in her voice and could see it in the dangerous narrowing of her eyes. She would much rather believe them up to no good than to believe her best friend had not confided in her. “I don’t believe you,” she bit out sharply.
There was something quite beautiful to Hunter about Tatyana getting her back up. The vitality. The life ... and something more. Something he couldn’t put his finger on exactly. She just about took his breath away. It was obvious to him that the newest addition to Willow Coven was very close to this sister of his. She clearly expected him to tell her if he was going out of town. He was forced to wonder why Dimitre would step out of routine like that. Why wouldn’t Dimitre tell his sister about a simple trip?
Hunter turned to look at Ryce, his eyes narrowing slightly on the High Priest. Snatches of
little factoids suddenly began to fall together in his mind like connecting pieces of a puzzle. Keeping silent for the moment, Hunter would bide his time before confronting Ryce with his suspicions. There were more important issues to deal with for the moment. Mainly, a pretty redhead’s bruised feelings.
“Sugar,” Annali said gently, “I assure you it’s the truth. And I’m equally sure he didn’t mean to be rude to you and not tell you. It’s a short trip and he’ll be back soon. He has his cell with him and probably figured he’d tell you if you called.” She smiled even as she said meaningfully, “I’m sure he had no idea you were planning to come here or he would have been here to meet you. He would never forget something like a visit from you. He knows I would have killed him if he didn’t give me time to make everything perfect for his favorite sister.”
Tatyana blushed a pretty, bright pink under her light freckles.
“Well, it was ... kinda spur of the totally bipolar manic moment. Oh boy,” she groaned, dropping her head forward and covering her face with her hands. “This is such a major screw-up. I am so sorry. And you’re all going out, I can see.” She started to get up again. “All I need is a phone. I’ll catch a cab and I can stay in—”
“The guest room upstairs,” Annali said hastily. “I won’t take no for an answer, remember? Dimitre would have our heads if we didn’t show you every courtesy. Starting with supper tonight. You will eat with us.”
Annali knew Hunter and Ryce were looking at her as if she had lost her mind, but she wouldn’t look up at them. She kept Tatyana’s full attention instead.
“But weren’t you going out?” Tatyana nodded her head at their mode of dress.
“We have a stellar chef here at Willow House. In or out makes little difference to us,” Annali said carelessly. “Besides, I already asked our chef Rochelle to prepare a meal when I realized we’d be staying home.”
“Willow House?” she asked.
“A privilege of having a home this big,” Ryce injected, “is being entitled to the snobbery of calling it by a name of some sort.”