Shadow's Kiss (Monstrous Hearts: Fleur's Story)

Chapter Twenty-Eight

The next morning, Fleur already regretted the offer of driving Fiona and the others throughout the Russian River Valley. Her aunt had, with her usual efficiency, booked them at four wineries and given Fleur a list of the appointment times. It would take all day. Now Fleur was wondering what the hell she was supposed to do while the others drank. Her usual nerves of being around strange people felt muted while she got ready to go, so at least there was that.

She'd pulled out the one dress she had brought along and had it waiting on the dresser while she tried styling her hair into something that at least looked like it had been brushed. The brush was already snarled in her hair from days of windy weather, sleeping with it loose, and her own growing impatience.

As she fought with it, her gaze strayed to the single red rose beside the dresser's mirror, and for a moment her frustration melted away. Dario had stayed with her last night, gone by the time she woke up, but he had left the rose on his side of the bed and a handwritten note.

No matter what happens with the wolf, I have a surprise for you.

Despite herself, she smiled while continuing to struggle with pulling the brush free. Then the handle snapped, sending her hand flying. It smacked her coffee cup and spilled the entire contents all over her dress.

"Shit!" She stared at the stains.

A knock came at the door. She answered it while the head of the brush dangled in her hair, beyond caring.

Fiona studied Fleur's head and then the oversized sleep shirt she wore. "It's a good thing I came early to see if you were ready."

"I would be if I hadn't made the mistake of deciding to look nice. Or trying to, anyway."

Her aunt stepped inside and carefully eased the brush free, looking at it in disgust. "Sweetie, why are you using this? It's terrible for naturally thick and curly hair like ours."

Fleur eyed her aunt's shining, smooth bun. "It was the cheapest option."

The answer drew out a sigh. "Dare I ask whether you have the right hair products? Don't tell me you're using the little samplers left in the bathroom."

"Why not? They're still better than my usual three-dollar shampoo."

"All right. Let's go to my room. I'll fix you up in no time."

Her aunt's confidence wasn't misguided. With her bags of supplies, she managed to tame Fleur's hair into a thick, neat ponytail. Then Fiona studied her critically. "Do you want to fit in with every other woman there, or do you want to look good?"

"What's the difference?"

"Everyone always goes for the bohemian look at these tastings. Oversized hats, loose sun dresses with ruffles, and the ugliest sandals you can imagine." Fiona herself wore a crisp, gold-and-green blouse with tailored white pants that showed off her jogger's physique. Her pointed stilettos made Fleur's toes ache just looking at them.

"I mean, I don't want to look bad," said Fleur, mind instantly jumping to Dario's promise of surprising her. She wanted to surprise him by not being a disheveled mess when they met.

Within ten minutes, she found herself in a white dress that was sleeveless and fitted. Her red lipstick matched the little cherries printed on the fabric. Her earrings were simple gold hoops; until she'd put them in, she'd forgotten that her ears were even pierced.

"Four-inch?" said her aunt, holding up a pair of heels.

"Three is fine. I'm already a giraffe." As Fiona handed her a fitted black leather jacket to wear against the cool weather, Fleur added, "How do you have all this ready? You never wear floral patterns, and you're a shoe size smaller than me."