Everlasting - Iris Johansen [41]
Kira's expression betrayed how troubled she felt. “That's not good enough. Not for you, Marna.”
Marna shrugged. “It will have to be.”
“We'll have to see about that.” She suddenly smiled as she linked her arm with Marna's. “But right now, we'll follow your Gypsy philosophy and enjoy ourselves. It's been a long time since I've been free to do that, and there's no one who knows how to do it better than the Romany.”
SEVEN
KIRA SHOOK HER head as she looked in the mirror Marna was holding before her. “Are you sure this isn't going a bit too far? I saw an old Maria Montez movie on the late-late show on television when I was in college, and even she didn't look this theatrical. Seven petticoats, Marna?”
“Seven is lucky.” A gentle smile softened Marna's face. “You look beautiful.”
Kira turned around, trying to see a back view of the outfit. There was no denying it was outrageously flattering. The full circle skirt, a pale-pink and fawn-beige print, swung gaily as she turned. It was cinched by a wide, dark brown suede belt which laced and tied in the front, reminiscent of those worn by seventeenth-century peasant women. The lace-trimmed white blouse was completely off the shoulder and made her breasts appear even more ripe and womanly. Luckily, her own calf-high brown suede boots looked good with the ensemble.
She turned back to Marna with an impish grin. “I've changed my mind. It's much more like the outfit Esmerelda wore in The Hunchback of Notre Dame. Are you sure you haven't hidden Quasimodo in one of the wagons?”
“Zack would not be pleased with that particular comparison,” Marna said dryly. “And I wouldn't bring it up if I were you. Paulo says Zack's humor hasn't been of the best today.” Her gaze narrowed curiously on Kira's face. “What did you say to him this morning?”
“Just a little misunderstanding. I'll straighten it out when I see him.”
“That would be wise. I don't think many people would be comfortable having Zack ‘misunderstand’ them. You will be in a very vulnerable position after tonight.”
She was in a very vulnerable position right now, Kira realized. What Zack thought and did and felt had already assumed monumental proportions in her life. There were moments when it frightened her. The only time she'd ever known that Zack felt a similar dependence was when he was making love to her this morning, and a sexual dependence would never be enough for her now. She mustn't borrow trouble, though, she reminded herself, because this was only the beginning. There would be time to encourage whatever he felt for her to blossom and grow into something close to the love she was feeling for him. Love. It still felt strange and new and a little intimidating. “Hadn't you better tell me what to expect during the ceremony? Will there be violins and dancing and singing?”
Marna shook her head. “This is the mondava. It is a very private thing. There will be just Paulo and I at the saldana, and then we'll leave and there will be just the two of you.” Marna lowered the mirror and bent to lean it against the wheel of the wagon. “It is time. Are you ready?”
Kira drew a deep, shaky breath. She hadn't expected to be this nervous. “Yes.”
The next hour was strangely hazy and remote, as if viewed in the center of a dark crystal that misted and cleared and misted again. The silent walk through the autumn woods, then her first sight of the wagon in the little glade of pines. The wagon was painted a brilliant scarlet and a camp-fire crackled before it, sending sparks up into the darkness.
Zack was standing in front of the wagon with an expression on his face that was more grim than serious. He was dressed in the same gray cords he had worn last night, but evidently Paulo had found him another shirt and a pair of knee-length black boots. The shirt was deep burgundy, with long full sleeves, and the rich color