Key Of Valor - Key Trilogy 3 Part 3

"I hope we're not late."

"No, not at all." Rowena stepped back, leading the way over the tile floor with its colorful mosaics. "Most of the others are here, but Malory and Flynn haven't yet arrived. We're in the parlor. Tell me, Simon, do you like calf's liver and brussel sprouts?"

He made gagging noises before he remembered his mother's order, but even as he caught himself Zoe was flus.h.i.+ng. And Rowena's laugh flowed around them. "Since I feel exactly the same, it's fortunate they're not on the menu tonight. Our latest arrivals," she announced as she stepped into the parlor. "Pitte, come meet young Master McCourt."

Simon slid his gaze up to his mother, nudged her with his elbow. "Master," he said with great satisfaction, out of the corner of his mouth.

Rowena's lover matched her in looks. His powerful warrior's build was garbed in an elegant dark suit. His mane of black hair swept back from a strong face where the bones seemed carved under the flesh. His eyes, a brilliant blue, studied Simon as he lifted one elegant brow and extended a hand.

"Good evening, Mr. McCourt. And what can I offer you to drink?"

"Can I have a c.o.ke?"

"Certainly."

"Please, be at home." Rowena gestured.

Dana had already risen to cross the room. "Hey, Simon. How's it going?"

"Fine. Except I lost a buck because that guy and Brad are wearing suits."

"Bad luck."

"I'm going to go talk to Brad, okay, Mom?"

"All right, but-" She sighed as he dashed off. "Don't touch anything," she added under her breath.

"He'll be fine. How about you?"

"I don't know." She looked at her friend, one of the people she'd come to trust completely. The dark brown eyes looked back at hers with an understanding that only one other person could have. "I guess I'm a little wound up. Let's not think about it yet. You look great."

It was perfectly true. The dense brown hair fell in a sleek, swinging bell two inches below Dana's strong chin. It was a good look for her, if Zoe, who'd styled it, said so herself.

It relieved her that Dana had chosen a brick-colored jacket over the more formal black.

"Even better," she added, "you look happy." She lifted Dana's left hand to admire the square-cut ruby. "Jordan has great taste in jewelry, and in fiancees."

"Can't argue with that." Dana glanced back toward the sofa, where Jordan and Pitte were talking.

They looked, she thought, very much like the warriors who flanked the gates. "I got me a big, handsome guy."

They looked wonderful together, Zoe thought. Dana's s.e.xy amazon build, Jordan's tall, muscled frame. Whatever happened, or didn't, Zoe was glad they'd found each other again.

"I thought you would enjoy a gla.s.s of champagne." Rowena stepped over, offering Zoe bubbling wine in a carved crystal flute.

"Thanks."

"Your son is beautiful."

Nerves took a backseat to pride. "Yes, he is. The most beautiful thing in my life."

"That makes you a wealthy woman." Rowena touched a hand to her arm and smiled. "He and Bradley appear to be fast friends."

"They hit it off," Zoe agreed.

She didn't know what to think about it; it seemed so unlikely. Yet there they were, huddled together across the room, obviously in some deep discussion. The man in the elegant slate-gray suit and the boy in his dark brown one that was already-G.o.d-a smidgeon too small for him.

It seemed odd that Simon should be so easy with the man while she was so uneasy with him. She and her son were usually in tandem.

Then Brad glanced over and his eyes, nearly the exact color of his suit, met hers.

Oh, yeah, she thought, there was the reason. This was the only person of her and Simon's acquaintance who could have bats doing cartwheels in her stomach with just one look.

He was too handsome, he was too rich, he was tooeverything . Way, way out of your league, Zoe, and we've already been there once.

Bradley Charles Vane IV made James Marshall look like a yokel, in every possible way. The Vane fortune, built with lumber, spreading its commerce across the country with its top-rated HomeMakers chain of stores, made Brad a powerful and privileged man.

His looks-the dark gold hair, the sooty eyes and sorcerer's mouth-made him, in her opinion, a dangerous one. He had the toned, rangy build made for those designer suits. Long legs that she imagined could eat up ground quickly on his way out the door.

Plus, she found him unpredictable. He could be arrogant and cool one minute, hot and bossy the next, then surprisingly sweet.

She didn't trust a man she couldn't predict.

Yet she trusted him with Simon, so that was another puzzle. He would never hurt her boy. She was down to the gut certain of that. Nor could she deny that he was good with him, good to him.

Still, when Brad rose to walk toward her, every muscle in her body went tight.

"Doing okay?"

"I'm fine."

"So, you told Simon what was going on."

"He has a right to know. I-"

"You might want to stop the leap down my throat so I can tell you I agree with you. He not only has the right, but his mind's bright and agile enough to deal with it."

"Oh." She stared down into her gla.s.s. "Sorry. I'm a little nervous."

"Maybe it'll help to remember you're not in this alone."

As he spoke there was a commotion in the hall. An instant later, Moe, Flynn's big black disaster of a dog, bounded into the room. He gave a delighted bark, then charged toward the tray of canapes on a low table.

Flynn and Malory rushed in in his wake, followed by a laughing Rowena. There were shouts, more barks, and one unfortunate crash.

"In fact," Brad added as he watched the ensuing chaos, "you'll be lucky to find five minutes to be alone with this crew."