shoe out of the one guy’s face. I guess it was hooked on the bone and she had to operate,” he explained and heard her grunt behind him in acknowledgment. “The other guy wouldn’t even let her near him until they knocked him out. He didn’t want the shoe removed. He didn’t want the healing to start.”
“Si, healing from that would be a bitch,” Ildaria said with satisfaction.
G.G. nodded. The shoe had apparently gone through his testicle. The kick that had inserted the shoe would have been swift and excruciating, but that would be nothing next to the healing. That would be much slower, the pain extended over hours as the nanos repaired the damage. The thought wasn’t a pleasant one, but it was no less than the man deserved for trying to take his woman, G.G. thought grimly.
Speaking of which, he thought, and said, “After I heard the news about the attack, I thought perhaps we should leave Canada to avoid any further attacks.”
G.G. was aware of the sudden stillness behind him, and added, “But as my father said, they may know that we’re life mates. If they don’t, it wouldn’t be hard to find out, and then they’d just follow us to England.”
“England?” she echoed, but he couldn’t tell how she was feeling. She didn’t sound surprised, more curious.
“Yes. At first, I was thinking we could go there, but my father thinks we should handle it here if we can. That way we would have the support of the North American as well as the UK Council because I’m a Brit in Canada. He doesn’t think Lucian would be allowed to interfere in England since you’re from the Dominican Republic which is guided by the South American Council,” he explained.
“Si, if Juan complained and a summit of Council leaders was called, they might decide Lucian has no business in this if I am not still living in Canada,” Ildaria murmured, sounding a little distracted. He understood why when she said, “Your father pointed this out? He knows about me?”
G.G. nodded. “I called my parents after I finished talking to Mirabeau and Tiny. I thought I should tell them about us, and let them know that we might be flying over soon. It seemed better than just showing up and giving my mother fits.” He paused briefly, but then quickly added, “I say might be flying over, because I would have checked with you before booking the flights or anything. I wasn’t going all caveman on you.”
He heard her sigh behind him and then she whispered, “I wish I could hug you right now.”
“I do too,” he admitted, his voice husky, but then shook his head. “Unfortunately, we have talking to do right now and if you hugged me . . .”
“That talking wouldn’t get done,” she said, sounding resigned.
He heard her cross the room and the scrape of a chair being pulled out. G.G. wasn’t surprised to see her settling at the island again when he glanced around.
“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 adore you. 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 of meeting his parents. She was pale, her eyes golden-brown saucers, her mouth shaped into a rictus of horror, and she was clutching her throat as if she were indeed choking. Then