Chapter 93

#Chapter 93 – Negotiations Victor steels himself at the door of his suite, leaning his forehead against it before going in. “She told me to go to Amelia,” he whispers to himself. “This is…this is right.”

It must be right, after all. He wouldn’t have a mating bond with Amelia if she wasn’t perfect for him – his Luna, the woman of his dreams. Evelyn was right. Despite…everything…that he feels for Evelyn, he can never give her all of himself if another woman is his mate.

He’s been selfish, really, treating Evelyn like this. Going to her the night before his wedding, hoping that she will beg him to leave Amelia, to run away with her.

God, he thinks. If she’d done it…I might have gone.

He shakes his head, clearing the thought, angry with himself. If he wanted Evelyn, if that was his choice, why was he expecting her to ask him? After everything she’d already been through tonight, facing his family, who said such horrible things to her. To make her humble herself and begin him to run away with her, the night before his own wedding, while his mate waits downstairs?

Victor grits his teeth, hating himself for the coward he is. Then he straightens himself up, brushing his hands over his suitcoat. He’s frustrated at himself for being selfish and immature, but knows that it’s time to show both of these women the respect they deserve.

Evelyn was right, he assures himself. Amelia is his mate, and he’s got to respect that, for all of them.

She is the woman he is meant to be with, and he ows her that respect.

But if he’s going to marry her, then there’s something he wants in return.

Amelia is there when Victor pushes open his door, dressed still in her silk cream rehearsal gown. She is stunning, as usual, and Victor pauses in the doorway to take her in as she stands in the middle of the room, her head tilted to the side as she pulls at the back of her earring.

“Where did you go?” she asks. “My dad wanted to have an after-dinner drink with you.”

“I’m sorry,” Victor says, closing the door behind him. “I wanted to check on Evelyn and the boys.”

He carefully gauges her reaction. He refuses to lie, but knows that his immediate exit from the party to check on Evelyn could very well set Amelia off. He’s surprised when, instead of losing her temper, she grimaces.

“I heard, through the grapevine, what your father and brother said to her. While I appreciate that they’re on my side, that was really rotten of them.” She takes out her other earring and place both on a bedside table, coming over to him. “Is she all right?”

Victor smiles at her, relieved. “She’s fine,” he says. “Evelyn is made of stern stuff.”

“Good,” she murmurs, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him on the soft skin above his collar bone.

“Amelia,” he says, holding her back from him for a moment. “We have to talk.”

She narrows her eyes at him, but doesn’t say a word.

“Before we do this tomorrow –“

She opens her mouth, angry, about to protest, but he interrupts her.

“And we are doing this tomorrow,” he amends, putting a hand on her shoulder. She slowly closes her mouth, swallowing her protest and letting him continue. “I just want to make sure we have all of our plans in line.”

“Okay,” she says, confused. “What, precisely, is out of line?”

He shakes his head. “After the wedding, Evelyn has decided that she…no longer wants to live on our property. She wants a little bit more freedom. The boys are still my sons and heirs, and we’ll see them all the time, but Evelyn herself wants more distance.”

Amelia can’t help her smile at this news. Victor nods. “Yes, I thought you’d be glad about that. And I agree, it will be simpler for you and I to build a life, and to incorporate the boys in it, if we’re the only ones living on our property. But Amelia,” he pauses here, searching her face. “I really do want to build a life.”

“I know, Victor,” Amelia says, taking his hands and smiling up at him. “I do too, and tomorrow is the start of it all.” She leans in for a kiss, but Victor pulls back, resisting until he can get his point across.

“No, Amelia,” he says, stopping her. “I need your assurance that the life we start tomorrow…that it includes children.”

She pauses, leaning back a bit. “Victor,” she says slowly, “We talked about this. We decided that I could have a little time, that I still need to finish my career – I’ve still got Paris runways booked this spring, and I can’t miss them – “

“Amelia,” he says, voice low. “If we’re going to be married, I want to start our family. Now. You moved up the wedding date so that you would have an official role in this family, and I didn’t push you on that.”

She considers for a moment and then nods, admitting that he has been fair.

“And you wanted Evelyn gone – she’s going.” He doesn’t admit to her that Evelyn planned to leave of her own accord; somehow, in this moment, that detail doesn’t strike Victor as relevant. Amelia nods again, conceding.

“All I ask,” Victor says, taking her face in his hands, “is that we begin trying. I have given you everything that you’ve asked for,” he says, softly. “Please, this is the only thing that matters to me.”

She takes a moment to think, sucking her bottom lip into her mouth. But then she exhales, and looks up into his eyes. “Okay, Victor,” she whispers, smiling at him. “Okay. We’ll start trying tomorrow.” She shrugs. “I can walk in Paris fashion week even if I’m a few months pregnant – I won’t be showing by then.”

Victor laughs a little and kisses her, pulling her close. Amelia leans into the kiss, loving her sweet, sexy, complicated Alpha groom. Then she laughs and pushes him away.

“Okay, husband, but you’ve got to get out of here now. I’ve booked you the suite next door.” She walks over to the table by the door and picks up a fancy key with a tassel hanging from the end. “All of your stuff is already over there, anyway – your shaving kit, your suit for tomorrow. You’re all set.”

He growls and playfully swipes the key out of her hand. “A ridiculous tradition, I think,” he says, looking down at it and then meeting her eyes. “To spend the night before the wedding apart.”

“But think how much fun it will be,” she says, putting her hands against his chest and leaning into him, “when the first time you see me tomorrow, I’ll be walking down the aisle.”

“You’d better look damn good,” he growls, his eyes happy.

“Oh baby,” she says, her voice sultry. “You can bet on it.” Laughing, Amelia pushes him towards the door and smacks his ass as he goes. “I’ll miss you, baby!”

Victor pulls the door open but leans down for one last kiss, grabbing her by the waist and pulling her against him, throwing himself into his decision, into his role as groom and husband to this woman. “I love you, Amelia.”

“I love you too, Victor,” she whispers, “I can’t wait until tomorrow.”

Victor gives her a little bow at the door. “Until then,” he says, with a smirk.

She gives him a little wave, and then closes the door, leaning back against it and biting her lip with happiness. Things couldn’t have worked out better, she thinks, pushing herself up and moving towards the bathroom. Evelyn gone, those two little rat boys with her.

She flicks on the light and moves over to the mirror, studying her perfect face. Soon, she would have Victor all to herself, the perfect groom for the perfect bride. Just as she always wanted.

Pleased with herself, Amelia flips open her makeup back and takes out the packet of birth control pills she has hidden in a little pocket there. They are prescribed for Angelina Van Horten, the pseudonym she uses at the doctor so that Victor couldn’t trace the prescription to her, even if he tried.

He hadn’t, of course. Victor respects her privacy, and trusts her. Amelia pops one little white pill out of its plastic case and puts it in her mouth. It’s precisely his trust that makes it so easy for her to get her way.

Smiling, Amelia fills a little glass with water and swallows her pill. Victor wouldn’t get suspicious about her lack of pregnancy for a few months yet. And when that happened, she would come up with a new plan.

One step at a time.

Winking at herself, Amelia turns off the lights and heads for bed.

A blushing bride needs a good night’s sleep.