His hand gave her waist another squeeze and he asked, “Why?”
She looked back at him and replied, “Because you’re so secret. I had no clue.”
“No one has a clue,” he responded, “unless we want them to.” His face got closer and his voice got lower when he finished, “Like you.”
She pressed her lips together in an effort not to respond to how much she liked his face that close and his voice that low and looked again at the fire.
His big body relaxed further into hers. “Our people intermingle with your people all the time.”
“Do a lot of your people have human mates?” she queried.
“It’s rare,” he answered. “But it happens.”
Sonia looked about the pub and saw all eyes on them and all the eyes were clear and light. All the heads were dark. And all the bodies were big and long.
She turned back to Callum and whispered, “This whole village is your people.”
He looked down at her and smiled, “You noticed that?”
She nodded.
He pulled her even closer. “This is one of the reasons we need a liaison to the British government and why we have liaisons to every government. There are small countries like this around the world.”
“Countries?”
“Yes, little one,” he replied. “Villages, towns, even some small cities. This is our land, our country. The village and miles of wood that surround it. It isn’t owned by the British government. It’s owned and ruled by us. Didn’t you wonder why you didn’t go through Customs and Immigration when we arrived?”
She hadn’t thought of it, her mind was on other things.
“No,” she told him. “I’d never flown in a private jet before. I didn’t think about it.”
“Well,” he said, “that’s why. Not because you arrived in a private jet but because we landed on an airstrip, a private airstrip, our private airstrip that no one uses. The roads leading to this village are not on any map. Essentially, to your people, this place doesn’t exist.”
Sonia didn’t respond, she just stared at him.
Callum continued, “That doesn’t mean that humans don’t find their way here on occasion and they aren’t welcome when they do. They just wouldn’t be able to find their way back unless they had excellent memories and little fear of very bad roads.” He gave her a quick grin before he took a sip of his beer and then went on, “There are those of us who prefer living amongst their own, being who we are and how we are and not having to keep anything secret. There are those who find their calling in the human world and their profession takes them there. There are those who just like living in the human world, amongst more people, having more opportunities. There are others who move back and forth, depending on their mood. And there are others who live here but also like to spend time in the human world.” Then he finished, “Ryon’s like that.”
“What are you like?” she asked quietly, more curious than was prudent as to his answer.
“I like being with my people and I rarely stray into the human world,” he answered honestly.
“Don’t you like humans?” she blurted on a whisper before she could stop the words and then wished she could kick herself because she didn’t care (though, she did).
“I do,” he grinned again, his voice went soft, his eyes grew warm and his face got closer. “One in particular.”
She pulled in breath and reminded herself that he could be like this, sweet and tender one minute and the next…
Well, the next he would not.
“So why don’t you spend time with humans?” she pushed.
He sighed and pulled away, saying, “I just don’t understand them.”
Her eyes grew wide. “What’s not to understand?”
He gazed at her a second before he threw back his head and roared with laughter.
“What’s funny?” she demanded when his laughter calmed.