Dark Princess: Shadows (The Children Of The Gods Paranormal Romance #89)

41. Peter

41

PETER

A s Marina stopped to adjust her hair in front of one of the mall's many storefronts, Peter watched her reflection with a smile. Even two hours after the wedding dress fitting, her expression was still glowing.

"I'm starving," she announced, turning away from the window. "Can we stop by the food court? I'm craving a hamburger."

"Actually," he said, taking her hand, "I made reservations for us at a nice restaurant."

Marina's eyes lit up. "Where? Is it the place you took me last time?"

"No, it's not By Invitation Only, but it's another very nice place."

"Good." She looked down at herself. "I dressed nicely for the fitting, but it's not elegant enough for that place."

"You look perfect for where I'm taking you." He guided her toward the nearest exit.

As they walked through the parking garage, Peter used the key fob to unlock his car and opened the door for her. "My lady?"

"Thank you," she said as she slid inside, and he closed the door behind her.

As Peter drove through downtown, Marina pressed her face close to the window, trying to guess their destination, but she didn't know the city well enough for that. He'd only taken her out of the village a few times so far.

The late afternoon sun caught her blue hair, creating an ethereal effect that made him smile.

When he pulled up to the sleek glass tower, Marina frowned. "This is it? It looks like an office building."

"The restaurant is on the top floor of the hotel, which occupies the top ten floors of the building." Peter drove down toward the clan's reserved parking spaces. "We need to take an elevator to the lobby, which is on the sixtieth floor, and take another one from there to the restaurant." He parked the car and deliberately left it unlocked.

"How do you even know about this place?" Marina tried to mask her jealousy by looking around the marble-lined elevator lobby.

He chuckled. "I haven't taken any ladies up here if that's what you are worried about. The clan owns the place, and we use the restaurant for business meetings and the like. I've never cared enough for anyone before you to bring her here."

It was true. It had never occurred to him to bring Kagra to the hotel, and it wasn't because of her alien looks or the fact that she couldn't eat anything at the restaurant. A pair of sunglasses and loose clothing would have done most of the heavy lifting of camouflaging her looks, and he might have needed to add a little shroud here and there to smooth out the edges. He just hadn't had the urge to pamper Kagra.

"I wasn't worried." Marina smiled sheepishly.

As the elevator began its rapid ascent, she clutched his arm, her eyes squeezed shut. He wrapped an arm around her waist, steadying her. She wasn't used to fast elevators, and when it came to a gentle stop, she opened her eyes, looking relieved.

She was still holding on to his arm as they stepped out into the hotel lobby.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"Yeah. That was really fast."

They walked over to the elevator that was marked with the restaurant logo.

" The Seventy-Second ?" Marina asked.

"That's the restaurant's name and also the floor it is on."

She looked at it with suspicion in her eyes. "Is it going to be as fast as the other one?"

"Probably, but it doesn't have as far to go, so it's not going to be as bad."

When the restaurant elevator doors opened, Peter led Marina to the hostess station. "Peter and Marina MacBain," he said.

"Good evening, Mr. and Mrs. MacBain." The hostess gathered two menus. "Please, follow me."

Marina looked up at him with a raised brow. "MacBain?" she whispered.

"I'll explain in a moment," he whispered back.

Marina's eyes widened as she took in the panoramic view of the city through the restaurant's floor-to-ceiling windows. The sun was setting, painting the sky in brilliant hues that reflected off the glass and steel towers dotting the horizon.

"The whole city looks magical from up here," Marina said.

"Your table, Mr. and Mrs. MacBain," the hostess said, gesturing to a private booth nestled against the windows.

"Thank you." He helped Marina into her seat before sliding in beside her. The leather upholstery was butter-soft, and the table settings gleamed in the warm lighting.

Marina picked up the menu. "So, what's the deal with the last name you gave us? Not that I mind. It sounds nice."

"We always use MacBain to make reservations here. It's a code for the hosts to reserve the best table for us."

"Oh." She sounded a little disappointed.

"We also use the name when dealing with people outside the clan, so if you like it, I can get you documents under this name."

"When we get married, can we choose whatever name we want?"

He nodded. "Perhaps not just any name, but we can pick from a list." He reached for her hand. "Tell me about your dress. It's not bad luck to talk about it, right?"

Marina's eyes sparkled with mischief. "It's beautiful, and it far exceeded my expectations. That's all I'm willing to say about it."

"Oh, come on. You have to tell me more."

"It's mermaid-shaped."

"Mermaid? The top is shaped like a woman, and the bottom is like a fish. What kind of dress is that?"

She laughed. "It's a dress that is form-fitting through the bodice and the hips and then flares out around the knees. Sometimes, it also has a long train."

He tried to imagine it and failed. "Can you show me an example?"

"Sure." She pulled out her phone, did a quick search, and handed him the device.

"Oh, yeah. I've seen the style, and it's going to look great on you." He leaned closer to her. "You have the body for it." His hand closed around her knee and then traveled up, brushing over the soft skin of her inner thigh.

Marina blushed. "Peter. Someone might see."

It was true. The Seventy-Second did not offer a fully intimate setting like By Invitation Only, and when the server approached with a bottle of wine, Peter removed his hand and leaned back.

He waited until the guy poured it into their glasses, took their order, and retreated before returning his hand to her knee, but he left it there instead of venturing to forbidden places.

The games he and Marina liked to play were for their own entertainment and no one else's. They both liked to skirt the thin line of propriety and danger, but they were also sensible about it. When the chances of getting caught were high, it was exhibitionism, and neither of them was into that.

Marina sipped on her wine, gazing at the cityscape beyond. "I heard the band practicing yesterday. They are not bad."

"I know. They used to perform in clubs when they were still in high school."

She nodded. "Vlad and Jackson can sing, but I was really hoping Jasmine would be the vocalist. That's not going to happen now that she's in a coma. She's not going to be ready to get on stage by next Sunday."

"She might. Transitions are unpredictable. She might wake up tomorrow and be fully recovered in time for our wedding."

Marina cast him a skeptical look. "I'd rather stick with Jackson and Vlad or just get music playing through the loudspeakers. None of the weddings on the cruise had a band performing in them. "

"True. There's also Ray with his piano if we want something classier. I'm sure he would love it if I asked him to play at our wedding."

"Speaking of classy. Now that I've seen my dress, I'm worried that the rest of the wedding won't match up." She laughed nervously. "Now I'm regretting not being more involved in the planning instead of leaving everything to Amanda. It's silly, I want everything to be as beautiful and perfect as the dress. It has whetted my appetite, so to speak."

"Why don't you call Amanda and share your thoughts with her? It's not too late to make changes, you know."

"I'll call her on our way home after dinner," Marina said.

They weren't going home after dinner, but Peter wasn't ready to reveal his plans for tonight yet.

"Call her now. You won't be able to enjoy your meal while stressing over the party not being what you want it to be."

"You're right." She pulled out her phone. "I'll text her. It's rude to talk on the phone in a restaurant."

Peter wondered how she knew that. From watching television, maybe?

As she exchanged messages with Amanda, her expression slowly shifted from concern to relief, and when the appetizers arrived, a plate of perfectly seared scallops for Marina and beef carpaccio for himself, Marina set her phone down with a satisfied smile.

"All sorted out?" he asked.

"I should have known better than to doubt Amanda." Marina's eyes were bright with excitement now. "She'd already seen the dress and made some adjustments to the plans. She's having a wooden walkway installed so my dress won't drag on the grass, and she's ordered bridesmaids dresses in different shades of blue to complement my hair. I totally forgot about the bridesmaids. I didn't even select any, but Amanda did that for me, took their measurements, and sent them to Vivienne." She shook her head. "Amanda is amazing. How can she do all that while working full-time and taking care of a baby?"

"She has lots of help, my love." Peter lifted her hand and kissed her knuckles before returning it to the table. "She has her own Odu, and Dalhu has a studio at home and is always available to fulfill her requests. Not only that, she has a network of volunteers she knows how to mobilize."

"Amanda is one impressive lady. She even remembered to ask about your tux and whether you are having one custom-made for you."

"I have two perfectly good ones from the cruise weddings," he said. "They're practically new, and I've had them cleaned."

Marina looked disappointed. "Okay. They were both very nice," she said without much conviction.

Peter smiled. "On second thought, I should order a brand-new tux. My tailor has my measurements, so all I have to do is call him and ask him to make it blue to match your hair."