“So, we will talk,” she said resolutely, clearing her throat. “You told your parents about us?”
There was no mistaking the anxiety in her voice and G.G. turned back to the stove to hide the smile that started to curve his lips. It was the anxiety of the partner threatened with the dreaded in-laws, something he wouldn’t have to worry about since Ildaria’s abuela was long dead and she had no other family. That thought drove his smile away, and he assured her, “They were very pleased.”
“Si. Of course,” she muttered, sounding distracted. “They have been hoping for this for a long time.”
“Yes. So there’s nothing to worry about. You could be a troll and they’d still love you, and you’re no troll. They will adoreyou. Hell, my mother will probably drop to her knees and kiss your feet the minute she gets in the door.”
“What? Wait!” she said with alarm. “In what door? You said we were not going to England.”
“We aren’t,” he agreed. “But my parents are flying here. Robert wants to help resolve this and Mother—”
G.G. stopped and turned sharply at a choking sound from Ildaria. His eyes widened incredulously when he saw her expression.His beautiful brave woman who had taken on two Enforcers and kicked their asses last night, looked terrified at the idea ofmeeting his parents. She was pale, her eyes golden-brown saucers, her mouth shaped into a rictus of horror, and she was clutchingher throat as if she were indeed choking. Then she started to babble away in Spanish, her hands suddenly leaving her throatto fly about in a way he’d never seen from her before as she began what sounded like either a rant, or possibly a plea. Hecouldn’t tell. He couldn’t understand a single word she was saying. But Spanish sure was a pretty language, he thought. Andher hands looked like little birds as she waved them around. Beautiful.
Stopping abruptly, she frowned and said, “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“I’ve just never seen you get excited about anything before,” he said with a slow smile, and then added, “Well, outside ofsex.”
Ildaria flushed bright pink and moaned, “They will hate me.”
“No, they won’t,” he assured her. “They’ll love you to bits. My mother has been waiting for you for nearly twenty years.”
“She has been waiting for an immortal who would make you want to turn. I am not that. I failed her,” Ildaria wailed, droppingher head onto the island surface.
G.G. shifted uncomfortably and frowned. “You haven’t failed anything. My not turning has nothing to do with you.”
“Of course it does,” she said, sitting up with irritation. She scowled at him briefly and then closed her eyes and groaned.“She will come here and she will—” Ildaria shook her head and then launched into another spate of Spanish.
It made G.G. wish he understood the language. Or, maybe he was better off not knowing. Her suggestion that she wasn’t enoughto make him want to turn had been guilt-inducing. He’d never imagined she would take it that way, and it was ridiculous. Becauseif anyone could have convinced him to turn, he was one hundred percent positive it would have been Ildaria. He’d even consideredit, if only briefly before his more sensible side had reminded him he was perfectly happy being mortal and living a mortallife.
“When are they coming?”
The sudden English caught his attention, and G.G. blinked and shifted his thoughts to answer her. “Well—”
“This would not be considered an emergency by the Council there, so surely they could not arrange a flight before tomorrow,could they?” she asked hopefully.
“Er . . . well, Robert is on the Council,” he admitted reluctantly. “And he called me after talking to Scotty—he’s the headof the UK Council,” G.G. explained, and then continued. “Scotty has agreed to accompany him and my mother here to handle thesituation with Villaverde.”
Much to his surprise that seemed to ease her concerns somewhat. “Oh, good, good. As the head of the Council I am sure thisScotty cannot just drop everything and fly out right away. It could be days before they leave. Si?”
“Er . . .” G.G. shifted on his feet uncomfortably, but finally said, “It won’t be days, Ildaria. Scotty is a good friend ofmy parents and he knows how worried they have been about my finding a life mate, or being a life mate to someone or whatever,”he muttered, and shook his head. “He won’t make them wait days. In fact, they’re probably—”
A knock on the door interrupted him.
“I’ll get it,” Ildaria said, suddenly solemn and grim.
Nodding, G.G. turned back to his bacon. It was done, so he began lifting it out piece by piece onto the paper towel covered plate he’d prepared ahead of time. He was getting the eggs out of the refrigerator when Ildaria led Lucian into the kitchen. G.G. eyed the man briefly and then shifted his gaze to H.D., expecting the usual barking and hullabaloo, but the dog was sitting still and tense where he’d been lying just a moment ago. He was also eyeing Lucian Argeneau with wariness, not looking the least interested in drawing the man’s attention his way by barking.
That was a new reaction from the dog, G.G. thought, and turned back to the refrigerator to grab the second pack of bacon he’dbrought over with him. He’d brought it along thinking to offer some to Mirabeau and Tiny, but they’d once again said theywere good when he’d stopped to mention it to them on the way across the hall, so he’d only cooked the one package. Lucian,however, never turned down food. The man was always hungry. G.G. was sure that if he didn’t fry the second package, he andIldaria would be lucky to get a piece of bacon each. Lucian Argeneau would eat every last slice of what he’d just finishedcooking.
“Lucian,” he said in greeting as he carried the eggs and bacon over to set them on the counter next to the stove.
“Joshua,” Lucian greeted him in response. The man wasn’t one for nicknames unless it was one
