I greeted Virgil, dressed as a very large Aladdin, and chatted with José and his wife—dressed as the Wolf and Little Red Riding Hood—for a short time before excusing myself to make sure everything was going well outside.

The outdoor patio was awash in the glow of candlelight, guests milling around the pool, the sounds of laughter mingling with the sound of the band just starting a new song. I stood for a moment, observing. There hadn't been a moment to talk more with Grayson, and I was filled with desire to get him alone. The night had been a whirlwind so far, though, and despite my impatience, I was very satisfied with the way the party was going.

"May I have this dance?"

I whirled around at the feel of a warm body behind mine, the whisper of breath on my bare shoulder. A beautiful dragon was grinning down at me, his hand held up to take my own. "I just realized I haven't danced with my wife yet . . . or ever, for that matter." I let out a small laugh on a breath and took his hand as he led me to the middle of the dance floor. I recognized the song from the movie "Enchanted," although I couldn’t have named it.

"I didn't realize dragons could dance."

He pulled me into his arms and began to lead. Leaning close to my ear, he whispered, "Oh yes. People assume we're cumbersome, but it isn't true. It's a little known fact—dancing with a dragon is like dancing with lightning." And then he spun me around. My heart leapt and I laughed out loud, my hair flying out behind me. He spun me back the other way as he grinned down at me, and as silly as it might have sounded, I felt as if I was glowing.

We slowed then; I was lost in the music and the sway of his body against mine. I wanted to ask him so many things, needed to hear him say the words I thought I saw reflected in his eyes, but I needed to be alone with him. I needed the moment to be just about us. I was still nervous and grappling with how quickly things had changed—I'd been prepared to say goodbye to him tonight, and now . . . and now there was a whisper of hope, even if I was almost afraid to dream.

The song ended and I stepped away slowly, unable to take my eyes off my husband as he gazed down at me as well, something in his expression I'd never seen before. He reached up as if to touch my cheek when we suddenly heard applause. I looked around and saw that we were the only ones on the dance floor and that the guests were clapping as if we'd just performed for them. I laughed, warmth rising in my cheeks as I gave a small curtsy and Grayson bowed, looking slightly embarrassed, too.

A woman approached us, walking with the slightest of limps, a kind smile on her face. "That was lovely," she said, reaching out her hand. I took it in my own. "I'm Virgil's mother, Trudy Potter."

"Oh!" I said, "so nice to meet you. Virgil's become part of the family here."

She let out a breath, looking teary as she shook Grayson's hand. "I won't keep you, but I," she breathed in sharply as if trying not to cry, "just wanted to thank you, Mr. Hawthorn." Her words ended on a whisper.

"You're welcome," Grayson said softly. She nodded at him and turned, disappearing into the crowd.

"I only gave him a job," he murmured.

"I suppose," I said, "but I think to her that's a mighty big only."

I looked up at him. His appreciative gaze caught mine, and he let out a soft breath. Suddenly, off to my right, I heard the soft clap of a singular person approaching us, and turned, smiling, to see my father. My smile faded and my heart stuttered in my chest as Grayson grasped my hand.

"Hello, Kira," my father said.

I eyed him warily, looking around quickly to make sure no one nearby could hear us. He was standing in shadow and apparently no one had recognized him as of yet. Not that it would be peculiar, I supposed, for my father to be at a party I was hosting, but I certainly didn't want him to stay. "What in the hell are you doing here?" I hissed.

"I planned to visit you at your new home. Forgive the intrusion. I had no idea I'd be interrupting a party, but I didn't like the way we ended things in San Francisco. I wanted to learn a little more about the man you married." He suddenly looked to Grayson. "Seems you're more than Kira led me to believe," he said. "Of course any father would be worried about his daughter under these circumstances."

"Can we discuss this somewhere more private?" Grayson asked, stepping forward, his jaw hard, words clipped. "This is hardly the place." He nodded to the people all around sipping champagne, laughing, and beginning to fill the dance floor behind us.

My father narrowed his eyes, but nodded once, and Grayson, not letting go of my hand, led the way to his office. When he'd closed the door behind us, his tone was arctic as he said, "Let me give you some advice—don't ever just drop by our home."

My father turned to him, his eyes equally as cold. "You'll understand, of course, if I choose not to take any advice from a murderer." He spoke through his teeth, his lips barely moving.

Grayson eyed him, no emotion whatsoever revealed on his features.

"What do you want?" I asked dejectedly. This night had been so full of magic before he'd shown up. Despair made my heart sink.

He looked back and forth between the two of us, eyeing our costumes, but obviously choosing not to comment. "You and I haven't always seen eye to eye, Kira. But clearly I don't want my daughter married to a murderer and an ex-con," he said.

"Don't," I responded. "You don't know anything about who he is." Nausea pressed against my stomach, and I brought my hand there as if to hold it back.