Ildaria listened absently as he spoke to Sofia, but her attention was on the road. They were close to the Enforcer house now. In just minutes she would be facing Juan. Ildaria would rather face a hundred Enforcers out for her blood than this man. She liked to think she was brave and strong, but when it came to Juan Villaverde, she was still that confused and terrified fourteen-year-old girl trembling and weeping on her knees, and he was the boogeyman.
Disgusted with herself, Ildaria sat up straight and lifted her chin. Screw him. She wasn’t that child anymore, and he wasn’t the boogeyman, and if the bastard tried anything, she’d bite his dick off again, and maybe cut his head off too . . . if she could get her hands on a weapon. And if Lucian or someone else didn’t stop her.
Ildaria rolled her eyes at her own thoughts and told herself to focus on tomorrow. By tomorrow at this time, this ordeal, whatever it was, would be over and she would either be dead or back at her apartment, cuddled on the couch with G.G. and H.D., watching a movie, or passed out on the floor after making love, or in the office at work, or entertaining his parents.
That thought made her wonder when his parents were leaving, and then she turned in her seat to peer out the back window to make sure the second SUV that Mary and Robert were traveling in was behind them. Lucian had sent Tybo and Valerian to collect G.G.’s parents and bring them too.
Ildaria had just spotted the second vehicle when her body swayed to the side as the SUV Tiny was driving turned. She immediately swung back around to see that they were pulling into the driveway to the Enforcer house.
Grinding her teeth, Ildaria felt herself separating somewhat from her emotions in preparation for what was coming. It was an automatic reaction to stressful situations, and one she only became aware of a few decades ago. It was like she had an emotional disconnect button. It allowed her to stick her steel heel through a man’s face or groin without hesitation or guilt, and do whatever else was necessary to survive.
“Here we are.”
Ildaria didn’t respond to Mirabeau’s comment as Tiny brought the SUV to a halt in front of the Enforcer house a few moments later. She was looking out the back window, watching the Enforcers that guarded the gate run a mirror on a stick under the SUV G.G.’s parents were in as it sat idling between the inner and outer gate. It was the same search they had endured on arriving. She knew they would be through and parking next to them momentarily, but had no intention of getting out until they did. She wanted all of them with her when she entered to face the lion.
Tiny and Mirabeau got out of the front seat, and moved to stand by her door, but didn’t open it. She supposed they’d read her mind and were willing to wait for the others to join them.
“Tiny left the keys in the ignition. We could still make a run for it.”
Ildaria shifted her gaze to G.G. at that comment, a small smile breaking the tension that had been pulling at the muscles of her face as warmth swam up through her. “I love you.”
The words just slid out, wholly unexpected, even by Ildaria. They stared at each other in surprise, but then G.G.’s surprise faded under certainty and he said in his deep rumble, “I love you too, Angel.”
They swayed toward each other, but before their lips could meet, Ildaria’s door was yanked open, and she was caught under the arms and dragged out of the car.
“No bare skin to skin,” Mirabeau reminded her with amusement as she set her on her feet.
“We were just going to kiss,” Ildaria protested with exasperation.
“Lips are bare skin,” Mirabeau pointed out as G.G. followed her out of the SUV, looking perturbed. “You would not believe the number of passed-out half or wholly naked immortals Marguerite had littering her house and grounds the last time she had a New Year’s Eve party, and all because of the tradition of a kiss to ring in the new year. For new life mates, kissing invariably ends in sex.”
“Fine, no kissing.” Ildaria sighed the words with resignation as she checked that her abrupt removal from the vehicle hadn’t left her blouse rumpled or her skirt twisted. Everything