He laughed, which stopped me mid-sentence because it wasn't his sensual chuckle or even his disdainful, I-mock-you-with-my-superiority laugh. It was something new, and if I had to label it, I'd say it had You're in for it now written all over it.

"What did you think would happen when you made me realize I'd fallen in love with you? I'd want to date more? Get engaged to be engaged?"

Another laugh that made gooseflesh ripple over me despite the heat from his body. Then his laughter faded away and he leaned down until his mouth was millimeters from mine.

"As if I'd settle for anything less than making you completely mine, as soon as possible."

He was so close his features were a blur, yet his eyes had never gleamed brighter. I closed mine and it made no difference. I could still see his through the shield of my lids.

"I am yours," I whispered, and it wasn't only a statement. It was a promise.

As I spoke, I rubbed against him, craving more than his hands on me. For a blistering few moments, he complied, kissing me with such intensity that my knees buckled. When I began unbuttoning his shirt again, he drew away, his lips curled into a sensually cruel smile.

"Not unless you marry me."

My mouth dropped. "You're using sex as blackmail?"

That smile widened. "Whoever told you I played nice?"

My lips twitched but this was too serious to joke about. "I do want to marry you, Vlad. Tonight is too soon, but - "

"Why?"

Not a hint of humor colored the question. Belatedly, I realized he was serious. With that knowledge, my inner antebellum Southern belle burst to the surface.

"Because all of this is so sudden!"

After an outburst that even Scarlett O'Hara would scorn, I tried to explain in a more articulate manner.

"I'd want our wedding to be special. I don't have a dress, you don't have a best man, and instead of flowers, we have corpses on poles decorating the front of the house."

"Flowers are on the way, as is my best man, three seamstresses are ready to make any dress you desire, and I'll have the corpses taken down," he replied without missing a beat.

If he had seamstresses standing by plus flowers and a best man on the way, he wasn't just serious about wanting to get married tonight. He was planning on it.

A colossal tug-of-war began inside me. I loved Vlad and I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him; I had no doubts about that. His arrogance and complexity would drive me up a wall, plus I'd never get used to his impalement habit; I had no doubts about that, either. Would a long engagement change any of the above? No, but the saying "Marry in haste, repent at leisure" was famous for a reason . . .

"Did I mention I honor the custom of paying a bride price?" he asked in a casual tone, as if his gaze hadn't narrowed while listening to my thoughts.

"In case you aren't familiar, a bride price is where the groom bestows a gift to his new wife," he went on. "The gift is supposed to reflect the value a groom places on his bride. Because of your value to me, no matter what you asked for, if it was in my power to grant, it would be yours."

I'd stiffened upon first hearing his description, insulted that Vlad thought he could overcome my concerns with money. Then he caressed the words of that last sentence until they shone as brightly as the apple the serpent offered Eve. What did he think I wanted? He loved me - that had been my biggest wish, and I didn't remember singing "Material Girl" around him lately . . .

Comprehension dawned. Anything in his power to grant, no matter what it was. You MERCILESSLY diabolical man, I thought, aghast and admiring at the same time.

"Let me guess - you don't pay up until I marry you?"

A sly smile curled his lips. "Correct."

"You really don't play nice when it comes to something you want, do you?" I breathed.

His eyes gleamed. "You have no idea."

A promise and a threat. That described my decision now, which held the hope of incredible bliss as well as the potential for irreparable heartbreak.

"You told me you wanted to marry me," I said, voice throaty from all my surging emotions. "You didn't ask me."

He probably hadn't noticed. To him, there wouldn't be much difference between the two, and that exemplified so many issues in our relationship. See? You can't marry him tonight or any other night, you two will NEVER last! my inner voice snapped.

Vlad stared at me, copper swallowing up his gaze until not a trace of emerald remained. Then, his expression the same mixture of challenge and invitation, he slowly knelt before me.

"Leila Dalton, my one true love, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"

I might've brought Vlad to his knees at last, but in so many ways, he would never bend. I knew that as surely as I knew I'd always love him, and it left me with only one answer.

"Yes, Vlad, I will marry you. Tonight."

My hated inner voice had never steered me right before. I'd be damned if I started listening to it now.

Chapter 27

I now knew what Vlad had been busy with yesterday when he hadn't come to see me: preparing for a wedding I hadn't known about yet. He hadn't been kidding about the seamstresses, the flowers, or anything else. His staff hustled about with blurring speed, setting up decorations, making enough food for an army judging from the chaos near the kitchen, and putting out so many candles that the nearby countryside would soon suffer from a wax shortage. Unlike the frostiness I'd experienced before, Vlad's people were all smiles now, and if one more person bowed to me, I'd expect a tiara to magically sprout from my head.

But before picking a dress or any of the other items on my now-urgent to-do list, I had to talk to my family. All my family, even the vampire I shared no biological ties to.

Vlad sat next to me in the Tapestry Room. Images of medieval life, battles, and nature were intricately woven into the huge wall coverings. The ceiling had interior boxes carved into designs that mirrored scenes from the tapestries. The effect was stunning, but I didn't think my father appreciated it at the moment. He was staring at me with the same horror I'd seen on people's faces right before they were executed.

"You're marrying him tonight?"

Gretchen, for once, was more urbane. "That explains why everyone's running around like you set their asses on fire."

Marty's face was carefully blank, but his gaze flicked between me and Vlad in a way that could hardly be called joyous.

"Why the rush?" Gretchen asked. Then she stared at my midsection. "You're not pregnant, are you?"

"Vampires are incapable of impregnating humans," I said.

Relief crossed my father's face but I was ambivalent. Even if Vlad was human, I'd known since my teens that I couldn't have children. No baby could survive in my high-voltage body.

Then my father's features hardened. "You can't expect my blessing on this disastrous mistake."

The words were directed at me, but Vlad responded.

"I wouldn't insult you by asking. We both know you disapprove and we both know that I don't care. Leila's opinion is the only one that matters and she said yes."

My father cast a calculated look at the items on the silver serving tray in front of him. Vlad flashed him a charming smile.

"You'd never succeed."

For a second, I didn't understand. Then my mouth fell open.

"Dad! You were not thinking of stabbing my fiance with a silver knife!"

Marty leapt over to my father. "Hugh, you need to settle down," he muttered while shooting wary looks at Vlad. "Let's go for a walk, hmm?"

"That's not necessary, I won't kill him," Vlad said in the same tone most people used to talk about the weather.

"This is too twisted," Gretchen muttered. "I'm about to have Dracula for a brother-in-law."

I ignored that, still glaring at my father.

"I didn't expect you to be happy about this. I did expect that you wouldn't get homicidal. I've lived with a vampire for years, remember? They're not so different from us."

"You think I object because he's a vampire?" my father snapped. "If you were marrying Marty, I'd give my blessing because he's a good man. He" - a finger stabbed in Vlad's direction - "is not."

I sighed. "You saw the corpses on the lawn, didn't you?"

My father let out a scoff. "As if I couldn't tell before that. I told you, Leila, I can read people, and without a doubt, Vlad is the most violent person I've ever met."

"You're right."

Vlad hadn't shifted from his relaxed position, nor had his genial smile slipped. He waved a hand at Gretchen and Marty.

"You're both resigned to this wedding, so give us the room."

Gretchen got up, casting a sideways look at my hand. "Still no diamond ring. This is what happens when you don't play hard to get, sis."

I rolled my eyes. "If you want to help me design the dress, meet me in the library in half an hour."

Marty gave me a long look. "I hope you know what you're doing, kid," he said. Then he followed Gretchen out of the room.

I glanced back at Vlad, noting that he and my father were engaged in a staring contest. Vlad's eyes were their normal deep copper color, but even without vampiric enhancement, Hugh Dalton didn't stand a chance.

"Dad, I know you have certain opinions about Vlad, but once you get to know him, I'm sure - " I began, only to have Vlad's chuckle stop me.

"That won't help because he's right. I am a violent man and I always have been. Why, when I was half his age and human, I invited the local nobles to my home for a feast. While they still had food hanging from their lips, I slaughtered them all and counted it an excellent evening."

"TMI," I muttered.

He ignored that, meeting my father's harsh blue stare.

"Here's what you don't know: I am never violent without cause. Those nobles had betrayed my father, resulting in him being blinded and buried alive. Some of them had walled him into his grave themselves, yet they still came to my home without fear because they underestimated me. You don't, which is one of the two reasons I respect you."

Then he leaned forward, his smile fading.

"The other reason is this: loyalty. You've seen the riches I possess and the power I wield, yet you've never thought of using your daughters to garner those things for yourself."

"That's not loyalty. It's being a father," my dad gritted.

"My father bartered me and my younger brother to his worst enemy in exchange for political security," Vlad said flatly. "I've seen far worse in the centuries since. Fatherhood isn't why you value your daughters more than money, power, or even healing your leg, which I can do. It's loyalty, and I expect you honor it more now because of the loss you suffered when you betrayed it before."

I didn't know which shocked me more - Vlad saying he could heal my father's crippled leg, or him throwing up my dad's former adultery. Vlad knew about it because of the guilt I still carried over my mother's death. I'd told her about the incriminating letters I found in my dad's bag because I was angry that she was moving us away from my trainer to join my dad in Germany. At thirteen, I cared more about making the Olympic team than my mother's heartache. Her leaving him put us at my aunt's, where she died trying to help me after I touched that downed power line.

My dad also looked stunned, but then he rose, jabbing the end of his cane at Vlad. "How dare you."

The words trembled with wrath. Vlad didn't even blink.

"I dare because I want no misunderstanding between us. I am everything you think I am, but I love your daughter, and what I love, I protect with all of the violence in me, which, as you've guessed, is considerable."

Silence fell when Vlad finished speaking. Even his staff must have paused in their frenetic preparations because I could've heard a pin drop in the next room. My dad's face remained set in hard lines while I engaged in an inner debate.

He could've left out all the people he'd killed -

Why? A Google search would reveal the same thing.

Fine, but bringing up Dad's affair -

He was impolite while making a point? This is Vlad the Impaler. His points usually come at the end of a long pole.

Yes, but the two of them are going to be family -

Did you hear Vlad describe his family? He didn't even get to the part where his younger brother kept trying to kill him.

And on and on. As I'd feared, I'd morphed into Gollum.

What I finally said after the seconds ticked by was this:

"I don't blame you for being upset, Dad. If my daughter told me she was marrying the undead Prince of Darkness, I'd flip out, too. You don't have to like it or approve, but you can't stop me, and I hope . . ." I swallowed to relieve the lump that suddenly shot into my throat. "I hope you'll be at my wedding."

Then I went over to him and kissed his cheek before leaving the room. Whatever my dad, Gretchen, or Marty decided to do, I had a wedding to get ready for.

Chapter 28

At some point, I felt sure I'd wake up. I wasn't the girl who had an exquisite gown handmade with fairy godmother - like quickness for her wedding. I was the girl who lost her mother before I could really get to know her. Who had her dreams crushed, whose family harbored resentments, who couldn't touch anyone without risking their lives, and who drowned in darkness from all the sins her abilities forced her to relive.

That didn't look like the girl in the mirror. My dress had a creamy bodice overlapping at the bust to increase my modest curves. Under that, a multilayered chiffon skirt was inlaid with lace clusters and tiny seed pearls. The lace bolero jacket left my decollete bare but hugged my neck and shoulders before descending into sleeves as sheer as spiderwebs. They came to my fingers, embroidery clusters concealing my long, zigzagging scar. My hair was up, a diamond-studded clip underneath the bun. That clip held up the back of a sheer cathedral veil with more pearl adornments. The front of the veil was currently thrown back in case I needed any final touch-ups on my makeup.