§ § § - February 14, 2007
"They should be here any moment," Roarke said, glancing at the grandfather clock, which showed about 5:25. "Is Leslie ready yet?"
Christian, sitting near the tea table across the room studying a printout of a computer program he'd spent the day trying to write, looked up curiously. "I'm sure she will be soon. Why do you ask?"
Roarke smiled. "It does take women a little longer, doesn't it?" Christian rolled his eyes, making his father-in-law laugh quietly. "I am waiting for…some assistants."
"I see," Christian replied and returned to his printout. He had been ready for the last fifteen or twenty minutes, having dressed in the one tuxedo he owned; he had conceded to the color scheme by borrowing a red bow tie and red cummerbund from Roarke's vast stock of costumes. Leslie had decided to look through the costumes as well, so neither Christian nor Roarke knew what she had chosen.
"Well, are we on time this time?" asked a voice, and Christian looked up again just as Leslie came down from the second floor. He saw his wife first, and his eyes widened with appreciation at sight of her scarlet gown before his gaze shifted to the newcomers and remained there as though glued.
"Indeed you are," Roarke said with approval. "And I thank you for coming."
"Ready for the party?" Leslie asked, crossing the room.
To Christian's consternation, Eros gaped at her and choked on an indrawn breath. "I didn't know you could look like that," he finally croaked, his eyeballs traveling up and down her length with enough speed to make them look as if they were bouncing.
Cupid, hovering in midair behind them, whacked his brother in the back of the head with the flat of one hand. "You idiot, for one thing, she's married, in case you forgot—and for another, the husband in question is standing right there getting ready to asphyxiate you."
Eros shot him a glare, then focused on Christian and cleared his throat, while Roarke and Leslie looked on with great amusement. "Ahh, so you're the vaunted Prince Christian. Good to meet you." He thrust out a tanned arm.
Christian took in the sight of the impossibly handsome, nearly naked man, and then eyed Roarke without moving to take the proffered hand. "Who is this?"
"May I present Eros, the Greek god of love," Roarke said obligingly, "and behind him is his brother Cupid, Roman god of the same."
"Pleased to meet you," Eros repeated with a slight edge to his voice, still holding out his hand. Christian stared at him for a second or two, unconsciously reaching out to shake hands, but unable to keep from frowning.
"Is that all you ever wear?" he asked. "A loincloth? In public?"
"Huh," said Cupid disgustedly, "he's got it easy. I have to flap around wearing this stupid diaper all the time." He blinked suddenly and turned to Roarke. "Say, Roarke, d'you think I could have a fantasy where I can change my image? This whole baby-with-wings thing is really bad for P.R."
"We can talk later, if you'd care to make an appointment," Roarke suggested, and Cupid nodded eagerly.
Christian thrust his hands into the pockets of his tuxedo pants and edged a little closer to his grinning wife. "What exactly are they doing here, Mr. Roarke? I mean…I realize they must have something to do with the holiday, but…"
"We're here to do our usual jobs, that's all," Cupid told him. "There're supposed to be a few hundred people at this bash of Roarke's, so he thought he could use a little help. So…ta-da! Here we are!"
Leslie's grin vanished abruptly as a thought entered her head. "Listen, you guys," she said a little urgently, "some of my friends are planning to come—and they're all married, so watch out who you shoot at. The last thing we want is a lot of mixups that could get me and Father into trouble, so if you see a wedding ring on someone's finger, for fate's sake don't even aim at them, let alone shoot."
"Gotcha," Cupid said amiably.
"That really isn't fair," Eros complained. "I brought a full dozen of my Hot Lovin' Specials so that some deserving couples could have an especially good night. Those are for carnal purposes, not for making people fall giddily in love, like my brother's arrows are. Just ask Roarke—singles and married couples alike are fair game for them." He glanced between her and Christian and suddenly leered.
Flustered, Leslie said, "I already told you, we don't need any help in that department."
This time it was Christian who grinned. "Ah, is that so, my Rose? I'm flattered."
Eros glanced back and forth between them and returned Christian's grin. "Y'know, Your Highness, for those who are doing well 'in that department'—to quote your wife—a Hot Lovin' Special can make it unforgettable."
Christian regarded him in interested silence long enough to make Leslie nervous, and Roarke chuckled. "I think that will be quite enough, Eros, if you don't mind. Now, if there are any other questions before we begin…"
"I have one," Christian said. "Are these two going to be in plain sight of all the guests? Because if they are, I really think they ought to…well, look less conspicuous."
"You mean get dressed, don't you?" Eros asked darkly, spearing him with the evil eye.
"I'll go for that, actually," Cupid said. "If you've got anything in my size, Roarke, I'd love a nice red tux."
"I think we can manage that," said Roarke, very amused. "Eros?"
"With all the things my goofy little brother could do wrong, all you can think about is putting clothes on us?" Eros demanded of Christian, who shrugged, undaunted. The god rolled his eyes and snorted at Roarke, "Oh, all right…but I'm not climbing into any monkey suit. I'll just settle for a nice pair of black slacks and maybe a red shirt."
"If I have to wear a tuxedo," Christian said, his tone as black as Eros' had been a moment before, "I daresay it's only fair that you do too."
"A suit and tie certainly won't hurt you," Roarke said to Eros.
"The tie could even be red," Leslie put in, hoping to smooth things over. "And take it from me, Eros—there are very few guys who don't look good in suits."
Eros thought this over, while Christian gave Leslie an affronted look and she retaliated with a be quiet glance. After a moment Eros sighed. "Oh, all right, if you say so. To tell you the truth, I was hoping for a little action for myself tonight."
"Just leave my wife alone," Christian warned him, and Eros propped his fists on his hips and opened his mouth as if to blast him.
Roarke cut him off with a hasty, "I think you two had better change before you're all late for the party. Gentlemen, follow Leslie; she knows where the costumes are, and you should be able to find something suitable."
Christian watched Eros fall in step beside Leslie, and began to make an outraged protest; but Cupid winked at him. "I'll play chaperone," he whispered. "That brother of mine can be a notorious rake, and your wife looks especially pretty tonight. So I'll keep his mitts off her for you." Christian murmured his gratitude, watching Cupid flutter off in the others' wake before turning to Roarke.
"So, the Greek and Roman gods of love, hm?" he said, raising that brow again. "And why not the Norse god of love?"
"Because for one thing, that would be a goddess," Roarke said, his dark eyes twinkling when Christian's mouth dropped open. "Shame on you for not remembering that. And I am sorry to report that Freyja was unavailable."
"Oh," said Christian in a very soft voice, and without another word settled slowly into one of the leather chairs. Roarke grinned and took his own chair to wait for Leslie, Eros and Cupid to return.
In about fifteen minutes they came back, by which time there was less than ten minutes to go before the party began. Roarke drove his daughter, son-in-law and the two gods to the old opera house, where the party was to be held; it was the only venue big enough to hold all the expected guests. They slipped in through a back door normally used only by Roarke's staff, and Christian and Leslie both paused to survey the gaily decorated main room. A small orchestra was tuning up in one corner, and a DJ occupied a booth in another, sorting through CDs and making adjustments to the control board for the sound system. The orchestra was meant to provide music for the earlier hours of the party; at midnight, they would depart and the DJ would take over, providing music for anyone who wanted to stay past the so-called witching hour. At the back of the room was a series of tables arranged in a buffet, spanning the width of the room; the tables were all draped in holiday-themed cloths, alternating red with white hearts and white with red hearts. Several native girls manned the tables, waiting for the partygoers to dig in.
"It's quite a groaning board, isn't it," Christian commented, surveying the food. "No one should go hungry here tonight."
"Or thirsty either," Leslie said, gesturing toward the far wall where a bar had been set up. The pond restaurant's bartender had been tapped for his services, leaving his assistants to handle drink orders at the restaurant for the evening.
Roarke smiled at their remarks. "If everything goes well, we should be able to call this venture a success," he said, casting a sidelong glance at Eros and Cupid. The latter was whizzing around the room as fast as his wings could flap, checking out everything in sight, while the DJ, the orchestra, the bartender and the native girls stared at him in disbelief. Eros, on the other hand, looked much more normal, and was already the object of admiring stares from the native girls. Eros noticed and began to preen.
"Fate have mercy," Christian muttered, watching him. Leslie snickered.
Cupid zipped back to join them and this time delivered a neat little kick to the seat of his brother's pants. "Hey, you're here to do a job, not check out the ladies," he scolded.
"Mind your own business," Eros growled at him, but subsided anyway. "You're getting into your own trouble as it is, levitating all around the room like an oversized mosquito. Get your act together and try to be inconspicuous."
Cupid sighed and addressed Roarke. "Is there a nice cozy corner I can settle myself into, where I won't be too easily noticed and I'll have clear shots for my arrows?"
Roarke smiled and pointed at the door from the back room where they'd come in, which was situated in a small hallway that jutted out from the back wall and provided a platform well above the dance floor for Cupid to sit. Someone had arranged several enormous vases, crammed with roses and other red and white flowers, around the perimeter, and a couple of bunches of red Mylar balloons in the back. "You should find some space among those decorations."
"Oh, you'll fit right in, little brother," Eros said, smirking. "The little Valentine Cupid and all the pretty roses and the heart-shaped balloons."
"Shut up," Cupid warned him, "or I'll sabotage your plans for finding a willing female tonight." With that, he fluttered up to the roof of the little corridor and made himself comfortable. "This is nice up here. All I need is a drink and some munchies."
"Come down and help yourself anytime," Leslie said, and Cupid nodded his thanks. She glanced around the room and then at her watch. "Father, I think it's time."
"So it is," Roarke agreed, without bothering to consult a timepiece. "Well, then, Leslie and Christian, why don't you come with me and we will open the doors."
Roarke and Leslie each pulled open one of the double doors at the front of the room, then stepped out into the foyer where several young native men waited to take any wraps or tuxedo jackets the partygoers might want to doff for the duration, and pulled open the main entrance door. Roarke smiled broadly at the line of people patiently waiting to enter. "Good evening, everyone, and welcome," he said warmly, and with that stepped aside to allow the guests to begin filing inside.
Among the first dozen arrivals were Myeko and Nick. "Well, here we are," Myeko said cheerfully. She wore a red halter-top dress with a short, swirly skirt, and boasted red pumps on her feet. "Don't I look festive?"
"You sure do," Leslie agreed, grinning. "Have fun, you guys. Oh, hey, hold on a second. You're both wearing your wedding rings like I said this morning, right?"
"Yeah," said Nick as he and Myeko displayed their rings at her. "Why'd you specify that, anyway? I usually don't wear mine since I spend so much time with the animals out back, but Myeko made me put it on. So I'm curious as to why."
Unwilling to say anything about Cupid or Eros in front of him, Leslie managed to find a plausible excuse. "This party's primarily for single people, and I thought it'd be better if some folks didn't get the wrong idea about the married couples who're just here to have a good time. There're always a few roving eyes, you know."
Nick nodded, his mouth turning down in a sort of facial shrug. "Yeah, that's true. I gotcha. Well, thanks for inviting us. It's been a while since it was just me and Myeko with no kids hanging around."
"Yeah, and this is gonna be great," Myeko said with anticipation. "See you inside." She and Nick headed for the double doors, and Leslie grinned after them before turning her attention back to the new arrivals. As co-host with her father, she was obligated to remain out here till all the expected guests had arrived.
Christian, standing nearby deflecting the unexpected attentions of a visiting fellow jordman, managed to extricate himself and approached his wife with an audible sigh of relief. "I didn't think that would be so tedious."
"What would be?" Leslie asked curiously.
He half-smiled. "I was just talking with someone from Lilla Jordsö, a banker from Moraby. It was nice to speak jordiska for a few minutes, but the topic of conversation was rather stultifying. I'm not particularly interested in whether Gabriella and parliament ought to pass a law requiring all bank tellers to take an accounting course in night school."
Leslie laughed. "I hope you suggested he e-mail his district rep. If that's all he can talk about, this party may turn out to be a failure as far as he's concerned."
"I thought so too," Christian admitted, chuckling. "Well, I see you succeeded in dragging Grady out of his lair." He addressed Maureen, who had just walked in with Grady.
"I had to promise him there wouldn't be any 80s songs here," Maureen said, casting a slightly nervous glance over her shoulder at her husband, who looked a bit disgruntled. "I hope there won't, for his sake."
"Grady, Grady, Grady…shame on you," Leslie scolded playfully. "There's nothing wrong with 80s songs. If they really bother you that much, then when one comes on, just go to the men's room or something."
"I'll probably spend half the evening in the men's room in that case," Grady griped, making Christian, Leslie and Maureen laugh. Then he shrugged and suddenly produced a crooked little grin. "Well, hell, it's Valentine's Day. I guess I can put up with it for one night a year in order to let my wife know I really do still love her, despite everything."
Amid their laughter, the Hardings consented to display their wedding rings at Leslie before moving on to the party. Already there was a song under way and Leslie could see some couples dancing in the main room. "Looks like we're off to a good start."
About ten minutes later Brian and Lauren arrived, accompanied by a very pretty young woman with pale blonde hair and sky-blue eyes. "You won't remember her," Brian said, "but she's been here before. This is my niece, Dania Branham. Dania, Prince Christian, Mr. Roarke, and his daughter, Leslie Enstad. She's a friend of Aunt Lauren's."
"I do remember you," Leslie said, very surprised that she did. "I think it's because now and then, Lauren mentions some of the doings of your family, Brian. You were here years ago, Dania, and you were just a kid then."
"Yeah, I was eleven," Dania said with a nod. "I'm twenty-three now. Graduated from college last year as a marine biologist, but I can't find a position and I've been stuck waiting tables at a posh restaurant in Evansville—that's where my mother and stepfather live. At least the tips are really good, otherwise I couldn't have afforded to come here."
"A marine biologist? Good for you!" Leslie said, impressed. "It's too bad you're not qualified to teach. The high school could use a good science teacher, and we put a certain emphasis on marine studies, being on an island in the middle of the Pacific."
Dania grinned. "Hey, if it meant I could find work, I'd jump in and get a teaching degree with no qualms at all. But for right now, I'm putting all that stuff aside so I can just have some fun tonight. I really need a break anyway."
"Yeah, poor kid, she looked like a ghost when she got off the plane yesterday morning, you should've seen her," Brian remarked with a grin, clapping Dania on the shoulder. "She's all ready for some sun, sand and surf."
"And some nice, available male prospects," Dania added with a wink at her uncle.
Brian rolled his eyes at Christian. "Rodney and Jenny told me to watch out for her. At this rate, I'll have to put her on a leash and tie her in the front yard."
They all laughed, and Christian and Leslie both wished Dania luck while Leslie checked to be sure Brian and Lauren were wearing their wedding rings. They moved on, and the Enstads turned back to welcoming newcomers, with Leslie keeping an eye out for more of her friends. They knew Fernando and Tabitha weren't coming, especially as Tabitha had finally given birth the day before. The Ordoñezes now had a second son whom they had named Rafael; even Fernando, who had seen any number of fat babies, had been impressed when he'd heard that Rafael had weighed ten pounds, five ounces.
"I just realized…I'm getting hungry," Christian remarked at one point when the steady inflow of partiers had trickled down a bit. "I hope they'll all get here soon. My feet are beginning to ache, and my stomach is getting impatient with me."
Roarke, standing on the other side of the door greeting guests from that point, overheard him and smiled. "It shouldn't be much longer now, Christian. In fact, I believe I can handle the remaining arrivals from this point, so why don't you and Leslie go inside and help yourselves to something to eat. And Leslie, don't forget what we discussed."
Leslie nodded. "Got it, Father. See you in a little while. Come on, my love."
Christian offered her his arm and she slipped hers through it while he asked, "What did you discuss?"
"Just the mechanics of keeping an eye on Cupid and Eros. We're not supposed to tell anybody they're here, of course." She peered across the room as she and Christian slipped inside, and grinned. "Well, look there. Cupid seems to have managed to fit right into the décor. If I didn't know better, I'd swear he was a mannequin."
Christian laughed. "He does look like one at first glance. Do you suppose he's had a chance to shoot any of his arrows yet?"
"We'll see soon enough," Leslie observed, grinning again. "Come on, let's get something to eat. Now my stomach's yelling too."
"Hey, we finally made it," she heard a voice, and turned to see Camille with her husband Jimmy behind them.
"Oh, good. What've you got David doing?" Leslie asked curiously.
Jimmy sighed. "This is gonna be one heck of an expensive evening. We gave the kid fifty dollars and told him to order a pizza from the hotel restaurant and rent some videos in town, and to keep Craig and Robin out of trouble."
"Of course, we had to bribe him to stay with his brother and sister by telling him he could keep the change from the pizza and DVD rentals," Camille added dryly.
Christian and Leslie laughed. "You know you're raising a con man," Leslie teased, and Camille rolled her eyes.
"Don't I know it. I can't wait till he starts college. He'll have less influence on Craig, and my house might be a little quieter. Oh well, see you guys around."
"Wedding rings," Leslie reminded her quickly, and nodded in satisfaction when Jimmy and Camille showed off theirs. Like Nick, Jimmy wanted to know what for, and Leslie gave him the same explanation she'd given Nick before shooing them off toward the buffet tables. Christian watched them go, shaking his head and chuckling.
"Don't your friends ever get suspicious?" he asked. "After all, they've known you almost thirty years, and I seem to recall your telling me you used to regale them with stories of the previous weekend's fantasies every Monday at school."
"Yeah, well, they know about the vagaries of the business, but the guys know a lot less than the girls do. And Father suggested that since my friends know enough as it is, the less I tell them, the better. If they don't have to know about it, he said, then I shouldn't tell them. So our two helpers are just between you, me and Father."
"I guess I can manage that," Christian said playfully. "All right, let's get something to eat before it's gone, and then we may as well get on the dance floor for a little while. I expect it's the best way for you to see whether you're getting any results."
They wove their way through the still-thickening crowd to the buffets and loaded up plates, then stood near the end of the last table, absently eating while watching couples form and dance, then break up and re-form in other configurations. Four songs had played before they had finished eating; then Christian dropped his and Leslie's paper plates into the nearest garbage barrel and gestured at the floor. "Shall we dance?"
"I'd love to," she said, and with that they joined the dancers on the floor. After just a few minutes, Leslie was rewarded by the sight of King's Castle's Damian Mullawney, dancing gracefully with a strikingly beautiful African-American woman who had arrived on the island the previous Sunday. "Oh, look, my love, I think we have one score already!"
"Do you know who he's with?" Christian asked with interest.
"That's Ariesa Williams from Burlington, Vermont. She was one of the respondees to the announcement you put on the island website. I'm sure she never thought she'd end up with Damian Mullawney."
"Everyone needs someone, my Rose," Christian reminded her gently, turning her head back till she faced him and then tilting her chin so that he could kiss her. "Not just me. And may I say you look stunning—you chose perfectly when you decided to wear that gown." It was a creation of watered silk, with sheer chiffon sleeves that ended in cuffs at the wrists, and a V-neck that made a perfect frame for Leslie's ruby heart necklace. Her shoes had just enough heel to add an inch or so to her height, bringing her a little closer to Christian's six-foot-three.
Leslie smiled at him. "You look pretty hot yourself, my love. I don't think we're going to need any of Eros' Hot Lovin' Specials tonight, do you?"
Christian threw his head back and shouted with laughter, turning nearby heads. "No, I guess you're right, we won't! Though I have to admit, I wonder what sort of effect it would have if we did try one."
"Oh no you don't," Leslie retorted, and they whirled around the dance floor, teasing each other and laughing frequently. Many of the guests noticed them and watched for a moment or two here and there; some were outright envious, wishing for what the Enstads had together. One of those was Jonathan Ichino, who'd been helplessly searching the crowd for some glimpse of Christian and Leslie's nanny, Ingrid.
His sister Julianne, standing beside him and yet to find anyone who appealed to her, elbowed him in the ribs. "Hey!" he protested, flinching aside.
"I know what you're doing, you dork," she shot back, "so cut it out. I don't know how many girls must be here looking for a nice guy, and there you are searching for someone who refused your marriage proposal and decided to move on. You really need to do the same."
Jonathan grunted. "I don't see you out there hunting down some guy. Neither one of us is gonna find anybody tonight if we don't split up. And besides, what's that say about us, that the only people we seem to be hanging out with are each other—brother and sister?"
Julianne considered that for a couple of seconds, then made a face. "You've got a point there. Sounds a little incestuous, almost, doesn't it? Well, okay, I'm going off to the buffet and see who might be hanging around over there. You look around the walls here—and quit trying to locate Ingrid. She's so over you, you know." As a parting shot, she poked him in the shoulder before wading off into the dancing throngs.
"Yeah, I know, I know," Jonathan muttered, scanning the bobbing heads on the dance floor one more time in spite of himself. Finally he gave himself a mental kick in the butt and began to wander along the perimeter of the room, letting his eyes roam over small groups of people standing around talking, eating or watching the dancers. He had made it almost to the DJ's booth when he spotted a pretty blonde loitering there by herself, leaning against the front wall of the booth and gazing out at the dancers. She looked somewhat like Ingrid, which drew Jonathan right in. As if magnetized, he drifted over to her. "Hi."
She blinked and peered at him. "Oh, hi there."
Well, Jonathan considered, at least she speaks English. Might be a much better start than I remember having with Ingrid. "I'm surprised you're not out there dancing."
The girl shrugged. "Well, nobody's asked me yet, and I never liked playing Sadie Hawkins, you know what I mean?"
Jonathan laughed. "Yeah, I think I do. Well, you feel like dancing? I just ate and I need to work it off."
"Sure, that's as good an excuse to dance as any," she agreed, laughing.
"Great. I'm Jonathan Ichino," he said, offering his hand.
She took it. "My name's Dania Branham. Nice to meet you."
"Same here." Jonathan and Dania found a spot on the floor to blend in with the other couples and began to sway to the music. "You from this island?"
"No, but I've been here once before, when I was eleven. My mother won a trip here on a game show, and she brought me and my aunt Tara and my uncle Brian with her. It was great—I really loved the amusement park. Hey, is something wrong?"
"Game show?" Jonathan repeated, blinking. "Hey, my cousin met her husband when his sister brought him here on a trip she won on a game show."
"Oh yeah? What's your cousin's name?" Dania asked curiously.
"Lauren. You said your uncle's name is Brian?"
"Yup…oh my God. Don't tell me. My aunt Lauren is your cousin?"
"Right in one," Jonathan said and groaned, half laughing. "Crap, I think we're related. Doesn't that just suck?"
Dania snickered. "Hey, don't sweat it. If we're related, it's only by marriage. So I guess that means you're a native of this island."
"Yup, born and raised all right. You here by yourself, or with family?"
"Just me. I'm an unemployed marine biologist, currently working as a waitress in a really fancy restaurant. I'm originally from Oregon but living in Indiana after my mother got remarried. Twenty-three years old and have two half-brothers. You?"
"Almost twenty-eight, an accountant with Prince Christian's Enstad Computer Services…employed, fortunately. Two brothers and four sisters—two of the sisters and one of the brothers make up a set of quads, along with me. Parents are still married, mostly happily, and spoiling the living daylights out of approximately ten grandchildren."
"Wow, you're a quadruplet? That must be a pain sometimes," Dania commented, eyes wide with amazement.
Jonathan laughed. "Occasionally, mostly when my sister Julianne bugs me. She and I are the only two single kids left in the family. But we were famous for a while as babies; my parents still have videotaped footage of assorted news reports, plus a big fat scrapbook full of articles and pictures from publications around the world. Trouble is, it's been so long since then that we haven't been able to trade on that notoriety since we were in about fifth grade or so."
"Oh, that's a cheat," Dania said with mock indignation. "What good's being a quad if you can't take advantage of it?" Jonathan laughed again, realizing that already he really liked this girl. "So if you're almost 28, when's the birthday?"
"April 10. When's yours?"
"I'll be 24 on August 22. Oops." Dania stopped dancing, and Jonathan realized only then that the music had stopped. They paused while the orchestra leader announced a short break, then looked at each other. "Well," Dania said, "you hungry?"
"I could eat," Jonathan said. "I got a look at the buffet when I came in, and it's gigantic. If we go hungry after this thing's over, it won't be anybody's fault but our own."
"That's for sure," Dania agreed, grinning. "So let's get over there before too much of it disappears on us." Jonathan grinned back, and from nowhere he offered her his arm, in an old-fashioned gesture he wasn't sure he'd ever used on a girl before—not even Ingrid. He vaguely wondered why as he escorted Dania over to the buffet.
Just at that same moment, Leslie happened to catch a movement in her peripheral vision and stopped moving. Christian promptly froze as well. "Are you all right?"
"Yeah…" she murmured, her gaze zeroing in on the decorated hallway that jutted into the room from the back. Sure enough, Cupid had gotten to his feet and was leaning over the flowerpots in front of him, arrow notched into his bow; even as she focused on him, he let fly, grinning maniacally. His expression made Leslie laugh, and she gestured in Cupid's direction, just in time for Christian to catch Cupid's face before the little god sequestered himself back into his hiding place.
"Uh-oh, seems like Cupid managed to shoot some poor unsuspecting slob or two," the prince observed lightly.
"Hey, that's a good thing," she reminded him, and he chuckled and gathered her into a hug. Leslie smiled, nestling into his embrace and wondering who'd been the beneficiaries of that first arrow.