Chapter 12
TWELVE
VIVIENNE
I hurried to my room and put on a black, long-sleeved dress that would have been better for Autumn than the middle of Summer.
But I didn’t own that many black clothes—the color depressed me—and I couldn’t be seen in town looking like I wasn’t still grieving.
I might secretly be glad that Carter was dead, but I couldn’t let anyone in the Pack know that—it would be scandalous.
I did my makeup quickly—I never wear very much—and looked for the hat I’d worn to the funeral last night. It had dried out fairly well and the veil was still attached so I perched it on my head and smoothed out the lace as best I could.
A glance in the free-standing, oval mirror in my bedroom let me know I was decent enough to go out in society. So I walked back to the kitchen, my heels clacking on the hardwood floor of the hall.
Kor had finished the dishes and was sitting at the kitchen island, reading the paper.
It happened to contain Carter’s obituary—something one of the Council of Elders had written—and it was full of platitudes about what a wonderful Pack Leader and husband he had been.
“He is survived by his grieving widow, but no children,” the obit ended.
As though Carter had to take a dig at me for my barrenness one last time from beyond the grave.
“I’m ready,” I said, and Kor looked up, a smile already on his face. But when he saw me, it turned to a frown.
“Hey, why are you wearing that get-up?” he asked, gesturing at me.
My heart dropped in that familiar way it always had when Carter had called out my poor fashion choices.
“Why? Do I look wrong?” I asked uncertainly.
“No, you look beautiful, but nobody can tell it if you wear that veil,” he pointed out.
“Oh, um…” I reached up to touch the lace veil. “But I have to at least look like I’m mourning Carter’s death.”
“And wearing all black isn’t enough?” He raised his eyebrows. “You’re going to roast in that dress, by the way—it’s hot outside and it’s only going to get hotter.”
“I…I suppose I could take the hat and veil off,” I said at last.
“Only if you want to,” Kor said. “But you have such a beautiful face—it’s a shame to cover it up.”
His words made me blush with pleasure—I wasn’t used to getting compliments. Abruptly, I decided he was right.
“Fine—I’ll take it off.” I doffed the hat and veil and left them carelessly on the kitchen counter. Then I ran my hands through my long black hair, trying to be sure it wasn’t crazy-looking after removing the hat.
Through it all, Kor watched me with half-lidded eyes.
It made me feel a little nervous, but there was no censure in his gaze—only a lazy kind of interest that made me feel special somehow.
I took my time and ran my hands through my hair several more times than were necessary as he watched. Finally I said,
“There—I think I’m decent now.”
“You’re more than decent—you’re gorgeous,” Kor murmured.
I felt myself blushing again, but with pleasure. I made a little shooing gesture at him.
“Kor, you don’t have to say things like that.”
“I’m only telling the truth, Vivienne,” he murmured. Then he stood up and shifted a little from foot to foot in that way men do sometimes when they’re adjusting their equipment. I couldn’t help noticing that there was a definite bulge in the crotch of his trousers.
I felt my eyes widen as I looked quickly away. Goodness, had I done that to him? It was shocking and shameful…but I found I kind of liked the idea that Kor found me beautiful and his body reacted to me like that.
However, I pushed the thought quickly away. Of course he wasn’t reacting to me—he was young and strong, he probably just had spontaneous erections sometimes. What was going on in his pants had nothing to do with me, I told myself sternly. Which was as it should be.
“Come on,” I said. “Let’s go to town.” And I tossed him the car keys.
He caught them in one hand and grinned at me.
“Let’s go.”