“Very well,” Marguerite said solemnly, but when he turned to retreat from the room, she followed him out into the hall. Knowing she had something else to say, Tiny paused and glanced back in question. Marguerite hesitated, then murmured, “After the recent trouble, it is nice to have so much to celebrate.”
“Hmm.” Tiny waited, knowing she had more to say.
Finally, she breathed out a little sigh, and simply asked, “You will be careful on this assignment?”
“Geez, Marguerite,” he said with irritation. The woman was always treating him like a child who couldn’t take care of himself. It was sweet but—
“I know you can take care of yourself, Tiny,” she assured him quickly. “And if this were a normal assignment, I probably wouldn’t even worry…much,” she added wryly when his expression turned dubious. She then rushed on, “But this is no-fangers we are dealing with here and—”
“Hang on,” Tiny interrupted suddenly as realization struck. “How do you know about this assignment? Lucian said it was top secret. We—” He snapped his mouth shut and grimaced as he realized she’d probably plucked it out of his thoughts. Which was probably why Lucian hadn’t given him the full details of the assignment until just moments ago. The wedding was only moments away, and he was supposed to stay in the private rooms until it did, then slip to his seat. Lucian was hoping that would minimize the chance of the wrong person reading his thoughts.
“Actually, I didn’t read your mind,” Marguerite assured him quietly. “In fact, I’m the one who suggested you and Mirabeau when Lucian mentioned his plan to me.”
“You suggested Mirabeau and I be given the job,” he said slowly, a frisson of alarm sliding through him. Marguerite was well-known for her matchmaking, and the woman didn’t do anything without a purpose. He suddenly wasn’t feeling so good about this task he’d agreed to do for Lucian Argeneau.
Marguerite rolled her eyes. “Oh, don’t look so alarmed.”
“Marguerite,” he said, the name rolling off his tongue in a low growl. “Everyone knows what happens when you put two people together.”
“They find their life mates,” she said with a satisfied smile, then rolled her eyes at his expression. “Please don’t try to claim you wouldn’t like to find a life mate.”
Tiny frowned. He was mortal. Human. Non-vampire. And mortals as a rule didn’t have life mates. At least he didn’t think they did. Certainly the divorce rate among his fellow mortals didn’t suggest such was the case. Only immortals had life mates, or what they called life mates. Perfect partners they couldn’t read or control so they could live out their long lives in peace and passion.
However, mortals could be life mates to immortals. As for whether he’d like to be one…Tiny found his gaze sliding back into the room and to the women clustered inside, still smiling and chattering excitedly over Leigh’s pregnancy. His gaze slid over all those beaming, very happy faces, then settled on Jackie, his boss and partner at the detective agency. She used to be mortal too, but she’d turned out to be Vincent Argeneau’s life mate. Tiny hadn’t seen much of the woman he considered one of his best friends since then. The two rarely came up for air, but he’d met them in Vegas and stood in for her deceased father to give her away at their Elvis-inspired wedding a month ago, and he knew she was deliriously happy. Both she and Vincent fairly glowed with their joy. Spending that time with them…It had been hard not to yearn for that kind of connection and happiness too. Spending time with any of the immortal couples would make it impossible for anyone not to yearn for that kind of connection. Still…
Tiny shifted his gaze back to Marguerite. “So you think this Mirabeau and I…?”
“Mirabeau La Roche.” Marguerite nodded with a wide smile. “I think you shall suit each other perfectly.”
Tiny arched a doubtful eyebrow at the words as he asked, “Isn’t she the gal with the black-and-pink hair?”
“Normally yes.” Marguerite nodded. “But not today. I told her no one would think anything of her hair here in New York, but she wanted a more traditional hairdo for the wedding. Besides, she didn’t feel her hair went well with the peach gown she is to wear, so I took her to my hairdresser this morning to work her magic for the wedding.”
“Hmm,” Tiny murmured, his gaze sliding to the women in the room, but he was pretty sure he hadn’t seen a peach gown.
“She’s helping Elvi get dressed,” Marguerite explained, gesturing to a closed door at the opposite side of the room. “You’ll meet her soon enough, and when you do…” Marguerite hesitated, then sighed, and said, “Our Mirabeau is prickly. She has a lot of defenses. She lost her entire family to the greed and betrayal of a favorite uncle back during the Massacres of St. Bartholomew and finds it hard to trust and love. She’s erected a lot of protective walls. You will need to be patient.”