Chapter 5

Chapter

Five

W hile everyone got settled, Darby went to find JD.

"Mistress?" he said a bit sheepishly.

She threw her arms around him. "Megan married the second-best wolf I've ever known. Thank you."

"I thought they might help you get through today a little easier."

She nodded. "Jean-Michel always said Laissez le bon temps rouler , and he was right. Any chance we have enough fireworks on hand and enough time to put on a display tonight?"

"We do. We will do you and him proud, I promise."

Darby was so full of emotion she had a hard time breathing. "Thank you again. I'm assuming the household staff knew of this little surprise."

"But of course. I wouldn't want Vachon, Mrs. Hastings or Claudine looking to serve my head on a platter."

Lunch was a far livelier affair than breakfast had been. Darby realized that while she thought she had mourned his loss in private, her prevailing sadness had affected the entire pack. God, if he were alive, he would have taken his strap to me .

"You have the oddest look on your face," said Catherine.

"Odd? How so?"

"I see grief, but that seems to have lessened a bit since the last time I saw you. But there's also something else. A spark that Megan says has been missing. Not a full one, but as if an ember were trying to break free of the charcoal and return to life."

"So, you all have had Megan spying on me."

"Summer as well. And Cameron keeps in close contact with JD. So, you, my dear friend, were never truly alone." Catherine placed her hand on Darby's. "We care about you and each of us knows all too well it could have been our mate."

"Speaking of which, have you or Maddie heard from yours?"

"I haven't heard from Marco, and you should probably prepare a separate room for him. He wants to keep secrets? He can bloody well keep them and his damn knot to himself."

"Here now, Catherine," said James Norris in a soothing tone. "You and I both know Marco will not be barred from your bed."

"I keep telling her she ought to have one of those bar things installed. They work really well to keep them from breaking down a well-made door that's six inches thick," said Shea, who was James's mate and Catherine's sister.

"If I were you, Catherine, I would ask your sister how painful it was to sit down after the last time she pulled that bullshit with me," growled James.

Shea shrugged. "I forgot there's a secret escape door. Do you know what Marco and Griffin are up to?"

"I don't much care," said Catherine. "I just wish I could be more like Maddie. She's always so serene."

"Me?" said Maddie joining them. "Not really. I just find terribly gruesome ways to kill him off or torture him in my novels."

They all laughed. Roz and Oliver were the last to join them. From the smile on Roz's face and the satisfied look on Oliver's, Darby surmised they'd probably indulged in a quickie before coming downstairs.

"I told Vachon we were taking over the study for the afternoon. I haven't been the best of friends to you," Darby held her hand up, "and I know you understand, but I'd like a chance to catch up with all of you."

"Oliver, sweetheart? Can I prevail on you to make peach margaritas for us?"

"It would be my pleasure. I'll have a pitcher ready right after lunch."

"That would be the first pitcher, babe. Just keep bringing them until we tell you to stop or we've all passed out."

And with that, life at Rivière Du Loup began to return to normal. It would never be the same without him, but at least it was a start. As Catherine had said, a spark had come back to life, and it would start a fire that would warm them all.

D arby spent an enjoyable afternoon with her friends—the women who had, over the years, become her sisters of the soul, if not of the blood. They laughed and talked and cried. She realized how much she had missed them and how much of their lives had passed while she mourned Jean-Michel.

In the early evening, they went upstairs to change and get ready for dinner. It would have been a damn near perfect day if her daughter could have been there, but especially if Jean-Michel still lived. She missed him on so many levels. He had been everything to her—friend, lover, confidant, father to her children and her dominant.

They had played at D/s and Jean-Michel had done some preliminary work on creating a high-end club like the DeMedici's. Perhaps that would be a project for her. The city and the club would enjoy it and for damn sure her straitlaced eldest son would never do it. He and his mate could live and run the pack from the plantation, and she would set herself up as the scandalous dowager mistress in their townhouse in the French Quarter.

By the time she strolled down to dinner, she was already thinking of what she should or could offer at her club. She had only been to two clubs—Torch Light in San Francisco and Dante's in Florence. Perhaps she would spend some time visiting others. She had no intention of playing herself; the thought of any man's hands on her other than Jean-Michel's was more than she could bear.

"You look beautiful, Darby," said Megan, JD's mate.

"And you've been spying on me," Darby retorted.

"But only for your own good. We were all worried about you."

Darby squeezed her hand. "I know. I'm sorry I've been such a burden to all of you."

"You are never a burden. We just want to see you smile again, to be happy."

"I will smile more, I promise, but I fear happiness only awaits me on the other side when I rejoin Jean-Michel. But until then, I will be content. It will be a long time before we are reunited. I want to hold our grandchildren, to see the next generation run this pack and see those that will follow."

"Somehow, Darby Gautier, I can't see you as the gracious dowager mistress, crocheting doilies."

"Oh, God no. I decided this afternoon I'm going to scandalize my eldest and open a BDSM club in the city."

Megan was speechless for a moment and then started to laugh. "Well, as long as you have something to do. You should talk to Roz, she's trying to convince Oliver to open one. She's run the numbers and says there's a great deal of money to be made."

"That may smooth my way with Jean-Edouard. That boy loves his finances."

"How did you and Jean-Michel conceive such a serious young man? Don't get me wrong, he's kind, smart and strong and will make an excellent alpha, but he's always impressed me as being more like Oliver than Jean-Michel."

Darby laughed. "I know what he appears to be—what fa?ade he presents to the world. But every once in a while, I see his father in him—the iron will, the unwillingness to allow someone else to sacrifice for him. It's there. Believe me."

"I do think Jean-Michel was right, though, about Brianna Owen. For once it's the wolf who wants nothing to do with his fated mate and not the other way around."

Darby laughed even harder. "I know. At some point I fear that she's going to kill him off in one of her books and then write him out of her life, if he doesn't pull his head out of his ass soon."

The dining room filled not only with people, but with sound. She realized how her grief had left a shroud over their pack. That ended tonight. They would have fireworks and they would truly celebrate the wolf she had loved with her entire being and would continue to do so until she passed to be with him.

She stood, and the pack and their guests quieted. "A little more than a year ago, I lost the love of my life. I recognized then as I do now that you lost him too. We shall never know another like him. But I fear I have allowed my grief to cast a pall over this plantation and this pack and that is something my beloved would never have allowed. I won't lie to you and tell you that somehow miraculously my heart has healed. It hasn't. A piece of it was torn out, and it left behind a gaping wound. But given enough time, they say all wounds will heal."

Darby took a deep breath and raised her glass. "Tonight, I ask you to lift your glasses to absent friends and loved ones. Some who have left us to exist on another plane and some who just decided to piss their mates off. So, when you hear a loud crash tonight or tomorrow or maybe the day after… not to worry. It's just Catherine welcoming Marco back to her bed."

Those assembled laughed; Catherine most of all.

"To absent friends and loved ones."

Everyone in the room rose and lifted their glasses in toast and farewell.

"Earlier today I asked JD to plan a fireworks display that would rival the ages. Come and join me on the patio where we can watch them light up the sky, toast our loved ones, and enjoy one another's company."

Darby headed for the French doors that led outside, followed by those in the dining room. The sky had darkened and as the moon rose in the sky, exploding colors and shapes lit the night. She was watching when she heard a gasp and turned to see what had caused the commotion. As she did, a distinctive wave of alpha energy washed over her.

She moved through the crowd as if in a trance, her eyes focusing on the image of three men coming up from the riverbank where a seaplane was docked, the sounds of its engines being drowned out and absorbed by the barrage of fireworks. As the men moved into the light of the patio she could see him and wondered for a moment if she was dreaming.

There, moving toward her, were the missing Griffin and Marco. And between them was somehow… incredibly… Jean-Michel. One minute she was standing there, unbelieving, unmoving, as if her feet were frozen in place, and the next she had kicked off her shoes and was running to him. She didn't care if she had died and hadn't noticed. As long as she was reunited with him, nothing else mattered.

She leaped into his arms, and he caught her, whirling her around and laughing before his mouth captured hers in a searing kiss, his tongue surging past her lips to slide along her tongue—tasting, exploring, reacquainting himself with her. Lust washed over her as he growled from deep within—a sound she could not only hear but feel, raising goosebumps and causing her arousal to sweep through her like a wildfire.

"You're alive. You're here. Please tell me I'm not dreaming or if I am, that I will never wake up," she said, wrapping her arms around him, refusing to allow any space between their bodies.

"Marco DeMedici, you bastard! I am so breaking things over your head," said Catherine, laughing.

Griffin hugged his mate to him before kissing her deeply. "I am so torturing you to death in my next book," said Maddie.

Jean-Michel swept Darby up in his arms as their pack and friends descended on him to welcome him home. He set her back on her feet and the crowd parted for their four sons to join them. Jean-Edouard stood apart while Rémy, Lucien and Octavio launched themselves at their father, who embraced them.

"No hug for your father?" Jean-Michel asked his eldest.

Jean-Edouard held back, trying to decide between confronting his father with his anger or simply welcoming him home. As he had when Cameron Nichols told them of his father's death, he felt a hand take hold of his and a soothing wave of trust and reassurance washed over him. He looked down, and once again, it was the Welsh Wolf's daughter, Brianna, who stood by his side.

"How could you do that to us? To her?" Jean-Edouard accused.

"Jean-Edouard," admonished Darby.

"No, Mother. I won't be shushed. He owes us an explanation and I for one am demanding he give it." He turned hard eyes on Jean-Michel and Darby couldn't help but see the stark resemblance; the son so like his father. "You charged me with protecting my family and my pack. I have done that to the best of my ability. Where have you been?"

Darby started to scold him, but was silenced when Jean-Michel kissed her.

"It's all right, ma choue . He has the right to be angry and a right to be told."

She looked at Jean-Michel and realized he had nothing but pride in his eyes for his eldest son. And when she looked at their son, she could see how close he was to breaking.

"I would ask, my son, if you could trust me enough to know that I would never have put any of you through this if there had been another way. Would you grant me a small reprieve until tomorrow when I will explain everything?" Jean-Michel placed his hand on his son's neck, resting his forehead against Jean-Edouard's. "Can you have faith in me for just a little while longer?"

Jean-Edouard nodded before embracing his sire and holding him close. "We missed you so much, Papa. I tried so hard to help her, but…"

"You've made me the proudest of men. To know that at your young age you carried the weight of this pack and the burden of your mother's grief. I can only beg your forgiveness."

"It's yours, but when Mother realizes you are truly here… well, I'd make sure there aren't any knives in your bedroom."

Jean-Michel laughed. "Good advice, my son. Now, can I ask you to take care of our guests while I try to begin to make amends to your mama?" Jean-Edouard nodded. " Bien. "

He turned around to Darby and scooped her up in his arms, cradling her to his chest, growling seductively to her as he strode back inside and up the stairs, not caring in the least that there were a lot of people to whom he owed not only an explanation, but an apology. But for tonight, he was alive, he was home, and that was all that mattered.

Jean-Michel bounded up the steps to their room, setting her down and closing the door behind them.

"I remember the first time I saw you in our bedroom and knew that my life was truly and finally complete," Darby said.

He sank to his knees in front of her, drawing her close and wrapping his arms around her, rubbing his head against her belly.

"Forgive me," he whispered.

She sank down, staying inside the circle of his arms. "Anything, so long as you have returned to me."

Arousal, love, and anger all roiled inside her, but arousal was shoving the other two aside to get what it needed—to feel him shove himself inside her, stroke her, to fill her completely first with his cock and then with his cum.

He stood, drawing her up to stand beside him. "I've missed you more than you'll ever know. I will ask of you what I asked of our son. Give me tonight just to be with you, and then I'll tell you everything you want to know."

"I never lost my faith or trust in you. Not from the moment you claimed me as yours. I love you now as I did before and as I always will. You are my fated mate."

His eyes darkened with the lust he had been repressing since his return, and the reverberating sound from deep within him meant that her wolf had truly returned to her.

"Get naked for me, Darby," he said, backing away and sitting in the wingback chair.

She smiled seductively and removed her clothing, not bothering to pick any of it up as it hit the floor.

"Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?" he purred.

She could feel the sound and his being wash over her, enveloping her in a warmth she had thought never to feel again. He beckoned her closer and she went to stand between his legs, looking at the bulge in his jeans. He rubbed his face along her breasts, his bearded stubble rasping over her silken skin and causing her nipples to peak. She sighed as she tangled her fingers in his hair, holding him close.

"I need you Jean-Michel. I missed you so much."

His finger reached up inside her, curling up to stroke her G-spot as his thumb pressed down on her swollen clit. Darby climaxed with a power that would have driven her back down to her knees if he hadn't been holding her. Instead, she allowed her head to fall back as she called his name. He stood and without ever letting go of her completely, stripped himself before lifting her in his arms and carrying her to their bed.

"Fuck me, Jean-Michel. Fuck me hard and fast and spend yourself in me. I want to feel your cum fill me up. You can take all the time you want later, but right now I need to be one with you."

He laid her down on the bed, crawling in beside her and covering her body with his own. Lining his cock up, he penetrated her to the core—just one long, hard thrust until he was buried balls-deep in her pussy. He drew back and then pushed in again, forceful and deep.

Darby wrapped herself around him, legs intertwined with his as her hands clutched at his back, stroking down to his muscular buttocks, trying to hold him deep inside her. This felt like more than lovemaking, more than fucking, more than reconnecting. This was a sacred vow of belonging together, knowing they were stronger as one than they could ever be as two separated halves.

He settled into a strong, steady rhythm, giving her all his weight as he moved his hips, stroking into her. He kissed her over and over again, breathing life into her and taking her breath away. Their mouths were fused together just as their lower bodies were, moving but never apart. His strokes became harder and faster, building their pleasure until she screamed his name into his mouth. He never even slowed, just pounded into her to build the tension in her like compressing a spring, knowing when he let go it would fly free.

Hammering her pussy, he kept at her until another orgasm surged through her system like a wildfire in a dry, desolate wasteland. He rode her hard—once, twice, three more times—until he shoved in deep, holding himself hard against her, and flooded her pussy with his cum.

"I have missed you, my beautiful mate," he crooned as he rolled from her, stroking her body to allow her to float back to earth.

Before she could respond, she realized he was sound asleep. She took the time to examine his body. There were new scars, and he was a bit leaner than he had been. But mostly, even in his sleep, he looked exhausted. When had he eaten last? Slept? Darby eased away from him and rolled over to the house phone, calling down to the kitchen. Normally it would be closed and anyone wanting anything to eat would be obliged to take care of themselves, but Darby knew Claudine, who picked up the kitchen extension on the first ring, would take care of them.

"He has fallen asleep?"

"How did you know it was me?" asked Darby with a smile.

"I have known your mate since he was a little boy. Everything about him said he was weary to the bone. If it weren't for you, he would have gone right to bed. But of course his priority was to see to your mutual need before allowing himself the luxury of sleep. I can bring you a tray of things you can eat when he wakes, or you can call me when he has awoken, and I will bring you something hot."

"Dear Claudine, what would any of us do without you? Just bring us a cold tray, and he can eat as much as he likes whenever he's ready. If we're not down at breakfast, don't hold it for us. I will ensure we rejoin the pack by noon."

"Ah, but noon on which day?" cackled Claudine before she hung up.

Within minutes there was a soft knock on the door. Darby grabbed his shirt, pulling it on to cover herself, and opened the door. She was surprised to see JD standing guard as she took the tray from Claudine.

"Where else would I be?" he asked. "He has returned. Nothing could have kept him from you but extreme danger. I have no way of knowing if the danger has been eradicated, so I've put the plantation on high alert. There are armed security personnel patrolling the grounds. I will ensure no one will disturb you. I would only ask one favor."

"Ask away."

"After you do whatever it is you are going to do to him for putting us through this?"

Darby laughed softly. JD knew her well. She nodded. "Yes?"

"Punch him once, right in the mouth, for me."