Immortal Angel (Argeneau #31) - Lynsay Sands Page 0,39

It was a large, overstuffed recliner in the same faux suede as the couch. Mortals wouldn’t have been able to carry it by themselves, but Sofia set it down like it weighed next to nothing. That was one of the benefits of being an immortal. Increased strength, speed, and night vision came with it.

Straightening, Sofia grabbed the dish towel that had been slung over her shoulder and walked over to hand it to her.

“I saw them out my apartment window when I went to get the dish towel and ran down to offer a hand,” she explained with a shrug.

Ildaria just stared at her blankly, not sure what to say or do.

“There,” G.G. breathed with relief, drawing Ildaria’s attention to the fact that they had made it to the center of her living room and had set the large sofa down. Straightening now, the big man smiled, and then headed for the door, saying, “Now let’s go get that bed.”

“Bed?” Ildaria echoed with disbelief.

“It’s the bed from your room, dear,” Marguerite said, moving past her and toward the kitchen with half a dozen grocery bags dangling from each hand. “It’s my housewarming gift to you. I figured since I was redecorating the living room, I might as well redecorate the guest room too. I’m growing rather tired of the rose color scheme in there. I’m thinking all in pale cream.”

“Marguerite,” Ildaria said with dismay, her gaze sliding from the groceries the woman was carrying to the furniture now filling her living room.

“It’s a gift,” Marguerite said firmly.

“But—” She shook her head helplessly, her thoughts a complete jumble. People just did not do these things in her experience. And she couldn’t accept such a generous gift.

“It’s not generous, dear,” Marguerite insisted. She’d set the grocery bags on the island. “It’s all used furniture that would have ended up being given to charity or sent to the dump if they didn’t deem it acceptable.”

“Acceptable?” Ildaria asked with disbelief. “Of course they’d deem it acceptable. It’s in perfect condition.” Her gaze slid to the groceries Marguerite was now unpacking and putting away. Her refrigerator and cupboards were going to be full by the time the woman finished. There was everything from fresh fruit and vegetables, eggs, milk, meat, and a multitude of boxed and canned goods, including large sacks of sugar and flour. Shaking her head, she said pointedly, “And the groceries? I suppose they’re a housewarming gift too?”

“No. They are to aid you in your efforts to make G.G. fall in love with you,” Marguerite said easily, and then reminded her, “G.G. loves food. Greeting him at the door in the mornings with sweet baked goods or meals will no doubt help make him fall in love with you.”

“Marguerite,” Ildaria said with exasperation, grateful G.G. was not there to hear this.

Marguerite paused in her unpacking and met Ildaria’s gaze before saying, “I’m very fond of G.G., my dear. And I have hoped for a very long time to find him an immortal he could be a life mate to. I was very pleased when I recognized it was you. You deserve a life mate, and he . . .” Marguerite sighed and confessed, “I no more wish to watch him age and die than his mother does. It would break my heart, and I intend to do everything I can to prevent that and help you claim him. So”—she pulled a package of steaks out of one of the bags and moved to place them in the refrigerator—“these groceries are really for me, not you.”

Ildaria didn’t know how to respond to that and glanced to Sofia for help, but the other woman raised her hands in a “leave me out of it” attitude and headed for the door, saying, “I’ll go bring up the other chair.”

“Thank you, dear,” Marguerite called after the towheaded woman, and then waited until she was gone before moving around the island to Ildaria’s side and taking her hands. “Breathe,” she instructed gently.

Ildaria took a deep breath, and then used it to blurt, “I can’t accept all of this.”

Marguerite nodded as if she’d expected that reaction, but then said, “Well, I have to say, I think that is very selfish of you.”

The words made her blink in disbelief. “What?”

“I have already mentioned that G.G. means a great deal to me and I would hate to lose him to mortal death.”

“Si, well, that’s the groceries,” Ildaria said uncomfortably. “But the furniture—”

“That’s necessary for his seduction too. Besides . .

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