“Mom?” she called as she wrestled the door open.
“Baby?” Her mother’s voice floated from somewhere upstairs.
Kat’s shoulders slumped in relief. “I’m home!”
She turned and gave Ridge a smile as he walked up behind her. “I had a lovely evening.”
“That’s good.” Ridge studied her with narrow eyes. “What were you so afraid of?” He could smell the fading scent of her fear, hear her heartbeat slowing its desperate thump. “I was starting to wonder if you thought I was going to jump you.”
Kat looked honestly startled. “Oh, no. Nothing like that.” Her laughter sounded a bit forced. “I just . . .
worry about my mom. I guess I’m a little paranoid.”
“You want me to check the house?”
“No. No, that’s fine. We’re fine.”
Ridge tucked his hands in his overcoat pockets and studied her thoughtfully. “All right. If you’re sure.”
“I’m sure.” That smile was definitely forced.
“Look, we need to meet tomorrow night. I’d like a better idea of how you’d handle yourself in a fight.” Her blond brows lifted. “Ridge, I’m a fitness instructor.”
“I’m aware of that.” The dossier had mentioned that much at least. “But being fit doesn’t mean you know what to do when someone’s trying to hurt you.”
He got the distinct impression she was grinding her teeth, but she restricted herself to a nod. “You’re the boss.”
“Yes. I am. I’ll pick you up at seven.”
FOUR
Ridge’s house was a three-story Mediterranean villa in golden stucco, its windows arched, its low roof red ceramic tile. Impressive though it was, it looked modest next to towering Mageverse neighbors that included a Germanic castle and a sprawling Gilded Age mansion.
“Who builds these houses?” Kat asked, eyeing the crenellated walls towering over the trees next door.
Ridge shrugged. “Majae, usually. It takes a lot of magic to build a house like this. Generally you barter services, though a Maja may give you a house as a gesture of gratitude.” She grinned, swinging the athletic bag she carried in one hand. “And what did you do to win a witch’s gratitude?”
“Saved her from a Death Cult assassin.” His smile was sly and very male. “She was very, very grateful.”
“I’ll bet.”
He led her inside, past plaster walls, wrought iron fixtures, and timber-trussed ceilings. Their feet padded over gleaming tile floors in warm shades of rose, gold, and cream. The combined effect was both intensely masculine and very beautiful.
Yep, that had been one grateful witch, all right.
At last Kat followed Ridge into a cavern of a room with a towering ceiling supported by heavy dark timbers. Padded mats covered the floor, sinking underfoot with every step.
“We’ll work out here,” Ridge told her, and gestured at an arched hallway. “You’ll find a bathroom down that corridor where you can change.” he bath in question was nothing short of sybaritic, Kat discovered, all smooth cream marble with pale gold accents. You could practically swim laps in the tub, while the shower was an elegant freestanding affair with multiple showerheads protruding from the rounded glass walls.
It was all enough to give a girl ideas, especially after last night’s toe-curling kiss.
The memory of Ridge’s mouth had left her shifting restlessly in the sheets all night. He’d felt so tall and deliciously strong against her, yet he’d touched her with exquisite care, as if she was something fragile and valuable. The simple brush of those lips had been enough to leave her aching.
When her tongue touched the tip of one fang, Kat had felt a strange erotic jolt, a delicious blend of fear and desire. Ridge was so utterly unlike any other lover she’d ever had. Next to his elegant restraint, every other man seemed a fumbling boy in retrospect, overeager and graceless.
Kat might have thought Ridge a little too cool, in fact, had she not sensed the patient predator beneath his gentleman’s mask.
Vampire.