table. One was a stunningly beautiful woman with green eyes and dark red hair, while the other two were kids, one probably eleven and the other a couple of years younger.
The youngest looked up, her eyes the green of pure emeralds. “Mom just lost your lake place in Scotland, Dad. You can start paying me rent, any time.”
The woman rolled her eyes and stood. Even in jeans and a black sweater, there was something regal about her. “Adare,” she breathed, smiling and moving toward him. “It has been too long.”
He hugged her gently and then released her. “Simone Brightston, this is Grace Cooper, my mate.”
Grace shook Simone’s hand, feeling power surge up her arm in response. “Hi.”
“Mate?” Simone shook, her eyes dancing. “Aren’t you full of secrets?” She slipped an arm through Grace’s and pulled her into the dining room. “These are our two monsters, Cadhla and Riona.” Cadhla was the older girl, and she had Nick’s black eyes and Simone’s dark red hair, while Riona had Simone’s eyes and white-blond hair. A definite mix of species, perfectly balanced.
“You’re on the Coven council?” Grace asked, searching through her faulty memory. Hadn’t she heard of Simone? The female was a rather notorious witch.
“Yes, but I’m on vacation now.” Simone nodded toward the stacks of paper bills, which included currency from several different countries. “Currently, I’m about to lose one of my favorite motorcycles.” She pointed a finger at the younger girl. “You had better not be cheating.”
“How?” Riona snorted. “We all agreed that counting cards isn’t cheating, and it’s not like I can see through cardboard.”
Cadhla stood and stretched her neck, her legs long and gangly. “Can I go shop online, now? I want to get Hope something cool for the Valentine’s party she’s gonna have next month after the grown-up symposium. She’s a teenager, so I can’t get anything babyish.”
Simone waved. “Go ahead.” She looked down at Grace, leading her gently beyond the table. “Would you like anything to eat? We finished supper a few hours ago, but I can drum something up for you.”
“No, thank you.” The whiskey still rumbled around in Grace’s belly. “I don’t want to put you out. There has to be a hotel somewhere around here.” She didn’t want to insult a witch, but she had to get out of there. “It’s kind of you, but I should be going.”
“We’re staying,” Adare said, walking up behind them. “If you could show us to our quarters, I’d be grateful.”
Simone chuckled. “You have the subtlety of a walrus, Highlander.”
Heat spiraled into Grace’s face. The woman thought she and Adare wanted to be alone. Definitely not.
Even so, she let Simone lead them up hand-carved wooden steps and down a long hallway to a suite at the end. “Our guest suite is stocked with anything you could need, and you have a small kitchenette off the main room if you become peckish,” Simone said.
“Thank you.” Adare grasped Grace’s hand and pulled her into the room. “Goodnight, Simone.”
The witch shut the door, and Grace relaxed a little bit. She freed her hand and looked around. The suite held a quaint sitting area by the fireplace, with a king-sized bed in the far corner. One door no doubt led to a master bath, and the other to the kitchenette. “I don’t see that we have anything to discuss.”
“You’re wrong. Sit down,” he said, moving to the fire. The massive vampire-demon was all grace and economic motions. His grunt when he flipped a switch and the fire ignited was almost comical. “Fire should be fire,” he muttered.
Grace set down her camera equipment, every bone in her body heavy. She sat by the fire and let the flames warm her freezing legs. “Listen. I’m sorry I inconvenienced you.”
“Inconvenienced?” He turned, leaned against the stone mantle, and looked down at her.
She winced. “All right. Embarrassed you in front of your friends.” No doubt a badass like him didn’t want his mate running around trying to buy vampire blood.
“Embarrassed?” His brows came down into a fierce line. “I don’t give a shite what anybody else thinks.” He paused and then moved to sit in the other oversized chair, his bulk settling into it. He faced her, his bone structure solid stone, chiseled by a master. “I’ve tried to be as understanding as possible with you.”
Everything about him was masculine and strong—and overwhelming. From his size to his intensity to his looks, Adare O’Cearbhaill was as male as male could get.