I love you so very much, Dragomir.
That is a good thing, since I am not giving you up.
“Stop talking to your man and come have girl time,” Charlotte said, taking the door from Emeline’s hand and closing it firmly. “Sheesh.”
“How do you know I was talking to him?” she asked, striving for a little dignity.
“You have that goofy look on your face every time you look at him and it’s so much worse when you talk to him,” Charlotte said.
“I don’t have a goofy look,” she denied, although she knew she probably did.
“Yeah you do,” Blaze said. “All mushy and starry-eyed.” She caught her hand and pulled her to the couch. “When we were kids, we’d make fun of some of the women who would look all googly-eyed at their men. We’d giggle about it and vow we’d never be like that.”
Emeline glared at her. “I hope you’re not implying that I’m gaga over Dragomir.”
“Not implying it, babe, I’m stating a fact,” Blaze said. “Your eyes go dreamy and you smile this beautiful, but very goofy, I’m-so-in-love-with-you sort of smile.”
“I refuse to dignify that with an answer.” Emeline sank down onto the cushions of the sofa.
The three visitors laughed, and she couldn’t help joining in. She did feel goofy when Dragomir was anywhere near her, let alone talking to her in that velvet-soft voice of his.
“I want to see what a prince sends,” she said. But she was more interested in Ivory’s reaction. Would she accept Carisma as blood kin?
Charlotte handed her a large carefully wrapped package. Emeline took it, and the moment she put her hands on it, she felt the power of it, even wrapped. Whatever had been sent had safeguards embedded deep. She bit her lip and looked up at her friends. “I can already feel the energy coming off it.” Good energy. Powerful.
She removed the wrapping paper without tearing it, revealing a quilt, one that would go over a crib. Squares of bright material, each stitched with obvious care, made up the blanket. She picked up the letter and scanned it quickly.
“Each individual square has been created by a Carpathian couple from the prince’s stronghold.”
Raven and Mikhail were represented by a forest, a raven and a crown. She touched the square and instantly felt a burst of strength and reassurance as well as the presence of safeguards. Strong ones. Shea and Jacques, the prince’s brother, had contributed a square depicting the forest as well, but with a sense of peace. When she touched that square, the stars gleamed silver and glittered like diamonds.
Gregori, the prince’s second-in-command, and Savannah, the prince’s daughter, had also contributed a forest scene to the quilt, but in theirs the leaves had a silver sheen, and as Emeline touched it, she swore she could hear the sound of laughter. Four small owls peeped through the branches of trees at her touch. She did it twice and the others leaned forward to listen to the childish laughter.
Emeline held the quilt to her chest, once more feeling the burn of tears. It was a beautiful, thoughtful gift and she would spend a long time looking at the various squares the Carpathian people had put together to make it. No wonder it was so powerful. Each couple had embedded safeguards and soothing, peaceful messages to the baby. Her baby. No, their baby. Dragomir had done this; he was the reason they’d sent such an incredible gift.
He had sent word to the prince. She knew he hadn’t yet sworn allegiance to Mikhail, but he had still contacted the prince to let him know of the newest addition to the Carpathian family. That had been answered with a beautiful welcome. Her heart hurt it was so full. Dragomir loved Emeline and Carisma, and he showed it in everything he did. She rubbed her palm over her little baby bump. Carisma kicked her, a small little brush of her foot, much like the brush of Dragomir’s voice when he spoke to her telepathically.
“This is beautiful,” Blaze said, smoothing her hand over the squares she could see.
“The safeguards are strong,” Charlotte said. “She’ll be safe while she’s sleeping aboveground.”
“I can’t feel safeguards, but it is gorgeous,” Genevieve added. “I’ve never seen anything so beautiful. When you touch it, it feels so soothing.”
“Tariq and Dragomir must have sent them the measurements of the crib they’re making. Tariq likes to work with wood. He uses his hands, not magic, but there is magic in his work. He embeds safeguards as well. Dragomir asked him to help him make the crib with his own two hands. I loved that so much. I told Tariq that when we have a baby, I want him to make our crib with his own hands.”
Dragomir had asked Tariq to help him build a baby crib. For her. For Carisma. He’d done that without saying one word to her. It was so like him.
“He’s so…” She struggled to find the right words. There were none. He was incredible, but even that didn’t describe him, or what she felt about him.
“He told Tariq you love the dragons and he wanted to incorporate dragons into the design. I thought that was very cool,” Charlotte went on. “Did you talk about it with him? About the dragons? He was very specific.”
Emeline shook her head. “Specific in what way?”
“The headboard is the male dragon with his wings outspread. The footboard is the female dragon with her wings spread. He wanted the feeling of the baby being held by both, protected by both. Loved, he said. The carvings are beautiful, and both Tariq and Dragomir are weaving strong safeguards into the wood.”
Emeline set the quilt carefully on the small end table and stood up to walk to the window. She touched the glass, staring out at Dragomir. He was talking, shaking his head, the others listening. Tariq said something, and Dragomir nodded. Suddenly he turned his head and looked straight at her. His features had been stone, cold, expressionless. The moment his gaze touched her, he warmed.
You have need of me?
Just looking at the man I love. Her heart was so full she knew it was overflowing. So what if Vadim stuck a splinter of himself in her? Dragomir would take it out. Dragomir could move mountains.
He smiled at her, that small, barely there smile, but it was for her alone. She owned that smile and it was more precious to her than any treasure. She touched the glass in a little salute and turned back to her friends. She discovered that Dimitri and Skyler had not only contributed a square to the crib quilt but sent a small stuffed wolf to put in the crib with the baby. The wolf had magical properties woven into it, but Emeline wasn’t certain what they were – or what they did. She would have to ask Dragomir.
Another package was from Paris, from Gabriel and Francesca. Francesca was famous for her quilts, and she’d sent a beautiful blanket. This one looked embroidered, although Emeline could see it wasn’t, it was actually quilted with material. The intricate scene had been handstitched using tiny pieces of material for every hill, rock, forest and stream. Wolves peered out of the forest, birds peeked through the trees, dragons dipped their muzzles into water as others sat with folded wings on rocks.
Every movement of the blanket brought the images to life. She knew Francesca was renowned for knowing what was the most appropriate thing for a client; she was famous enough that she was written up in magazines. Looking at the quilt, she saw, once again, the theme of dragons and wolves. She loved it, but more, she loved the power and peace woven into it. She felt the love that had gone into every stitch and she knew Carisma would feel it as well.
“I can’t believe he would think to do this. To have the Carpathian people welcome our daughter as they have. It means everything to me.”
Charlotte smiled at her. “Your man is a force of nature, Emeline. Tariq says it’s like trying to tame a hurricane or tornado. He wants him to stay here with us, but it’s all about you. Dragomir doesn’t care where he is, as long as you’re happy. He made that very clear. He also made it clear that everyone had better make you happy.”
Emeline couldn’t help herself. She burst out laughing. It would be like him to try to command the world to make her happy. “He makes me happy.” She was telling the wrong people. You make me happy.
“The prince also sent protections and blessings,” Charlotte added, holding up the letter. “I think Ivory is going to come for the birth. I hope she isn’t planning to tattoo the baby.”