Breck hesitated, thinking about the retirement home and Jubilee Grant’s unpaid bill. Scarlet had offered to house the elderly shifters, but he didn’t want her footing the expense or losing the resort. And he knew that Darla would forgive him for bargaining away the hoard for their happiness, but not at the expense of the people she loved.
“Darla still has a standard inheritance, outside of the hoard,” Eugene explained, voice silky. “Human riches, enough to run a dozen nursing homes and buy a big house on a tropical island. Enough to keep a failing resort afloat. Her mother releases it to her with the wedding.”
“But would she release it if Darla marries me?” Breck pointed out.
“I can see that she does,” Eugene promised.
“How?” Breck knew that Eugene had pull with Mrs. Grant, but that seemed like a tall order.
“I’ve got her psychic in my pocket,” Eugene said smugly, as if he could not help bragging about it. “I’ll go make a phone call, and Madame Nadine will have a convenient vision that you were the perfect son-in-law all along. Some messages from the crystals or whatever. She’s very convincing.”
Breck blinked at him. “That sounds… handy,” he said neutrally.
Eugene had clearly expected more praise for his cleverness. “Well, can we make a deal?”
“Yes,” Breck said promptly. “The whole hoard. It’s yours. I promise.”
Eugene smiled slowly. “Then I promise not to challenge,” he said. “And I’ll give Madame Nadine a call, right now.”
Breck extended a hand, ignoring his leopard’s instinctive hesitation; the big cat still considered this man their enemy. Eugene shook it.
“Well, you’d best get your beauty rest,” Eugene suggested slyly. “You’ve got a big day tomorrow.”
He was going to marry Darla, Breck realized, and Eugene no longer mattered in the slightest.
He walked back to his room in a daze.
He was going to marry Darla and he didn’t have to ask her to sacrifice Liam’s home or put Shifting Sands in jeopardy. He could get word to Liam, if not to Darla, and tomorrow would be the happiest day of his life.
Everything was falling perfectly into place.
Chapter 39
The litany of ancestors was the part of the ceremony that Darla had originally been most afraid of, and it was, when the time came, the easiest. The hours of practice meant they fell from her tongue easily, both of the noble dragon lines that she descended from. She said them slowly, very carefully and clearly, and was conscious of the audience that was avidly watching.
The most prestigious of the guests had arrived last; dragon nobility wearing riches and airs that would have made any other bride pale by
comparison.
But Darla knew — mostly by her mother’s look of smug satisfaction — that by appearance at least, she held her own. She was wearing all seventeen necklaces, an army of bracelets, and a tiara that would bankrupt a minor museum simply to insure. Her designer dress was alive with tiny crystal beads that made her gleam in the sunlight like an ice sculpture.
At the end of the recitation, there was a murmur of appreciation and the officiant, a gargoyle clergy from Rome, stepped forward and introduced Liam.
Liam’s recitation was much shorter and simpler, and elicited no approval at all.
There was a moment of silence.
Darla looked across to Liam, who was looking back at her with a very peculiar expression indeed. One of his eyebrows waggled up and down.
She was still trying to puzzle out what he was trying to communicate when the pompous officiant announced, “Now is the opportunity for challenge!”
A terrible idea occurred to Darla.
She did not realize she was holding her breath until it left her in a rush when the audience behind her began to murmur in surprise and she heard Breck’s voice, half-anticipated, half-dreaded.
“I will challenge.”
Jubilee gave a muffled squeak of horror, but Eugene pulled her back into her seat when she might have stood in protest.