Destiny's Whisper by Elizabeth Moynihan

at the stern tone and she cast a quick look over her shoulder toward Dani, who caught her expression and with a reassuring squeeze to her shoulder, stated “That’s Daddy’s idea of humor, dry as it may be, if you’ll pardon the pun. It’s an official Rocmanov ritual that he makes that statement, in fact, he’s probably kept a running tally of all the times we had to make potty stops along the way on our trips. Right, Sergei?” she asked her brother sunnily.
    But Sergei was lost deep in thought, his mind trying to clinically dissect his flip-flopping emotions. He wasn’t one for outbursts of emotion, at least up until now. He’d always been the calm, cautious, thoughtful Rocmanov, even more so than his mother, who had been known for her rock-solid, steady emotions. The way he felt now, he may as well have been a feather in a windstorm; tossed about without mercy, his will and desires without merit, a tiny spec in a maelstrom of conflicting emotions.
    Dani’s sharp pinch brought his attention back to her repeated question, “Right, Sergei?” and at her exasperated look and sharp nod up and down, he docilely agreed, his tone low and deep. His words had her eyebrows raising in silent question, but as he turned his head to view the world outside the jeep, she set her questions aside for later. It didn’t take a fool to realize her brother was lost in contemplation and she was sure it had a lot to do with the silent passenger in the seat in front of him.
    When the air conditioner kicked on, the soft breeze blew over Chloe, cooling her flushed cheeks and the soft scent she always wore, washed over Sergei in a seductive wave and swirled throughout the vehicle.
    Dani recognized the scent and smiled a silent thanks to her mother for remembering this little detail for Chloe. “Chloe, you smell wonderful!” she stated, breathing deeply and closing her eyes as visions of a garden wall covered with vines of honeysuckle came to mind.
    Sergei’s pain-filled low groan caught Dani’s attention and she cast him a bewildered look then shrugged her shoulders in dismissal.
    Aleksei heard the low growl also; his eyes meeting his son’s in the rearview mirror, understanding dawning as ebony gazes met. Apparently, Rocmanov men were destined to be haunted by flowery perfume and he remembered his own downfall at the scent of Jordan’s favorite scent. As long as he lived, Gardenias would always be a reminder of Jordan, and all indications were pointing to his son following in his footsteps. With a bemused wink at his son, he breathed deeply of Chloe’s scent himself, smiling at the light, freshly sweet scent, and wondered where the road ahead would lead them.
    In the back seat, Sergei did his best to ignore the gentle scent of honeysuckle that surrounded him as surely as vines themselves, beckoning, coaxing, encouraging him to fall under it’s subtle spell. Finally, he gave in, closing his eyes as the subtle scent devoured him and the picture of Chloe wrapped safely in his arms, her heart beating in time with his, their breathing synchronized, brought him peace and he slowly slid into a light sleep.
    In the front seat, Aleksei cast a glance at Chloe, watched her quickly lose her struggle to remain awake, and saw her long lashes flutter to her cheeks one last time. Aleksei’s eyes met his daughter’s own surprised look in the rearview mirror when Sergei and Chloe whispered each other’s names, almost simultaneously, in their sleep.
    “Daddy…” Dani began.
    “Later, Pumpkin. We’ll talk when we get home. In the meantime, why don’t you get some rest, too? It’s a long trip home and from the looks of things, it’s not going to be an early night.” Aleksei suggested, giving her a wink in the mirror.
    Dani knew he was right and despite her desire to debate the situation now, she blew him a kiss back and wiggled around to get comfortable in her seat. How on earth did he expect her to sleep when so many weird things were going