Dead Perfect

The door to the foyer opened, and there was a sudden sense of anticipation as the organist began to play the Wedding March.



Shannah’s maid of honor, Judy, walked down the aisle. Ronan had met her for the first time the night before.



The music swelled and Shannah was there, his bride, looking radiant in a long white gown and gossamer veil. He had seen her in her dress at the hotel but here, with her veil over her face and a bouquet of blood-red roses and baby’s breath clasped in her hands, she looked even more beautiful. There was a glow in her cheeks and in her eyes that had nothing to do with her vampire state.



The moment she came into view, he forgot everything else as he watched her glide down the aisle, one hand on her father’s arm, a shy smile curving her lips, her eyes alight with love.



Shannah’s hand was trembling when her father placed it in Ronan’s. She passed her bouquet to Judy and then, clutching Ronan’s hand tightly, she faced the minister, who offered the bride and groom a few words of advice on how to have a happy marriage, and then they faced each other to exchange their vows.



Vows they had written themselves. Vows that made no mention of “in sickness and health, until death do us part.”



And then, at last, came the words, “I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride.”



Lifting Shannah’s veil, Ronan drew her into his arms. “Forever, beloved,” he murmured, and then he kissed her.



For Ronan, in that moment in time, everything else on earth ceased to exist and he was aware of nothing but the woman in his arms, the sweetness of her mouth, the press of her body against his, the silk of her gown beneath his hand, the musky scent of her perfume. She was his, for now and for always.



He kissed her again, because he couldn’t resist the lure of her sweetness, and then, with a smile, he took her hand in his and faced their guests while the minister announced, “Ladies and gentlemen, may I present Mr. and Mrs. Luard Ronan Moss.”



Shannah looked up at Ronan, one brow raised as she mouthed, “Luard?”



He shrugged imperceptibly and smiled.



The organist began to play the recessional. Shannah smiled at Judy as she retrieved her bouquet.



People rose as Ronan led Shannah down the aisle, out of the church, and into the waiting limousine. The door had no sooner closed than he had her in his arms again.



“No more waiting,” he murmured, his hands stroking her back, her hip, sliding up to caress her breast.



“Ronan!” Shannah cast a frantic glance at the driver. “Not here!”



Grunting softly, Ronan hit the button to raise the window between the front seat and the back.



“There,” he said. “Happy now?”



“Luard?” she said in mock horror. “No wonder you waited so long to tell me. What kind of name is Luard?”



“English, I believe. It means little wolf. Ronan is my middle name. Now, Mrs. Moss, come here.”



“Ronan, don’t muss me!”



He growled low in his throat as he reached for her again.



She batted his hands away. “I mean it. I don’t want to walk into the reception looking like I just climbed out of bed.”



“One kiss?”



Leaning toward him, she kissed him quickly on the lips.



With an exaggerated sigh, he sat back, his arms folded over his chest. “How long do we have to stay at the reception?”



“Not long.”



Shannah took Ronan’s hand as they walked into the reception. She had planned the wedding to be late enough so that people would already have had dinner. It seemed easier than trying to explain why the bride and groom weren’t eating. They had provided food, of course, finger sandwiches, cheese and crackers, fruit salad, and drinks.



Hand in hand, Shannah and Ronan mingled with their guests, accepting their good wishes and congratulations.



Later, they took the floor for the first dance. “What are we going to do about the cake?”



Shannah asked as Ronan waltzed her around the floor.



“What about it?”



“The bride and groom always cut the cake and feed each other a piece.”



“Ah. Don’t worry about it.”



“We can’t make up some excuse,” Shannah said. “Everybody will expect us to do it.”



“I’ll take care of it.”



“How?”



“I’ll just plant the idea in their minds that we ate it.”



“You can hypnotize the whole room?”



He nodded.



Later, one of Shannah’s friends from high school took her aside. “You look fantastic,” Leah remarked.



“Thank you.”



“I’ve never seen you look so radiant. What’s your secret?”



Shannah looked across the room to where Ronan was conversing with some of their guests, and smiled. “It’s Ronan.”



“Well, being in love with a handsome man certainly agrees with you.”



“He is handsome, isn’t he?”



“I’ll say. He doesn’t have a brother, does he?”



“No, sorry.”



Leah looked at Shannah and shook her head. “Are you sure it’s just love? You haven’t had some work done, have you?”



“No.”



“Maybe a little Botox while you were in California? I hear it’s all the rage.”



“Maybe for movie stars,” Shannah said with a laugh. “Come on, it’s time to cut the cake.”



A crowd gathered around the cake table as Shannah picked up the beribboned knife. She looked at Ronan, wondering if he could really hypnotize the entire room.



At his nod, she cut a slice of cake, speared a piece with a fork, and offered it to him.



He opened his mouth as if to take a bite. She felt a stirring of preternatural power pulsate through the room. She looked askance when he scooped a bit of frosting from the cake and smeared a little of it around his mouth. She understood a moment later when there was a burst of laughter and applause. Smiling at her, Ronan wiped his mouth on a napkin.



He picked up the fork and made as if to feed her a bite. Following his lead, she opened her mouth. Again, a ruffling of power moved through the room. She quickly smeared a bit of frosting around her mouth. Again, their guests laughed and applauded.



Shannah wiped her mouth on a napkin, smiled at their guests, and allowed Ronan to lead her onto the dance floor again while their guests lined up for cake.



“You see?” he said. “Nothing to worry about.”



She shook her head. “Do you have any other talents I don’t know about?”



His eyes took on a wicked gleam. “Wait and see.”



They stayed at the reception for another hour, then Shannah took her parents aside.



“Thank you both,” she said, “for everything.”



Verna blinked back tears as she hugged her daughter. “Be happy, dear.”



“I am, Mom.”



Verna hugged Ronan. “Take good care of each other.”



“Come on, Mother,” Scott said. “Can’t you see they’re anxious to be alone?”



“Keep in touch, dear,” Verna said, hugging her daughter one more time.



“I will, Mom. I love you.” She kissed her mother on the cheek, hugged her father. “I love you, too, Dad.”



Scott put his arm around his wife’s shoulders. “Go along now,” he said, his voice gruff with unshed tears. “Call us when you get home.”



With a smile, Shannah took Ronan’s arm and they slipped out of the hotel to where the limo was waiting.



The driver opened the door for them, closed it, and climbed behind the wheel.



Ronan slipped his arm around Shannah’s waist and drew her into his lap. “You’re mine, now,”



he said, running his knuckles lightly over her cheek. “All mine.”



“Yes.”



“So it’s okay if I muss you a little?”



“You may muss me all you wish, Mr. Luard Ronan Moss. Luard,” she said, chuckling. “I can’t get over that.”



“It was a family name,” he said, shrugging. “I always liked it myself.”



“Sure you did,” she said dryly. “That’s why you never told me what it was, you were afraid I wouldn’t marry you.”



“Ah,” he said with mock despair, “you wound me to the quick!”



“Can you turn into a little wolf?”



“Want me to show you?”



“Not here!” she said, casting a frantic glance at the driver.



“You worry too much, do you know that?”



“I can’t help it. Now, Mr. Luard Ronan Moss, why don’t you stop talking and kiss me?”



“Always my pleasure, madam,” he said, and covered her mouth with his own.



His hands moved over her, eager for the time when he could bare her body to his gaze, feel the satin of her skin beneath his hands.



Shannah was on fire when the limo pulled up in front of their hotel. Ronan tipped the driver, then swung her into his arms and carried her swiftly into the hotel. He didn’t wait for the elevator but carried her quickly up five flights of stairs, down a long carpeted corridor and into their room.



Kicking the door closed with his foot, he murmured, “Alone at last,” as he slowly lowered her feet to the floor. Her body slid intimately against his own.



She leaned into him, nibbling on his chin as his hands moved to unfasten the back of her gown.



He pushed it off her shoulders and it fell to the floor to pool at her feet.



His gaze moved over her, hotter than any flame. Her scanty undergarments revealed more than they hid. She was as beautiful as he had known she would be, her body slim and perfect.



His body tensed as she began to undress him, easing his coat from his shoulders, slowly unbuttoning his shirt, unbuckling his belt. The touch of her fingers against his skin was intoxicating.



He shivered with excitement and anticipation as she unfastened his trousers. He toed off his boots. She stepped out of her white satin pumps.



He removed her nylons, his hands bold as they caressed her thighs, slid down her calves. Her skin was smooth and silky beneath his fingertips.