the outside chance that he needed a tissue. For another, going by what he looked like, you could roll every supermodel from Dovima to Gigi Hadid into a single, incandescent vision of femininity, and a guy like him would probably only muster a casual hi-how’re-ya.
The male blinked a couple of times. “Yeah, sorry. It’s uncanny.”
“Well, there are a lot of females around with long dark hair?”
“Yeah.” Abruptly, he smiled, as if he were determined to change tracks in his head. “I’m Rhage.”
As he put out his hand, Therese stared at it. Then, thinking of tips and her desire to move out of the rooming house on her own nickel, she figured, what the hell.
Shaking what he offered, she said, “Therese.”
“You work here long?” he asked as they dropped palms.
“Just a little bit.”
“You from Caldwell?”
“Nope. Moved here recently.”
“Where’s your family?”
“Back home.” She cleared her throat. “So are we waiting for some more people? Or are you eating alone?”
The handsome male shook his head. “I’m waiting for my shellan, actually.”
Okay, wow, Therese thought. Two beautiful people on his level in this dining room? They were liable to collapse gravity and suck everyone in the restaurant, maybe this whole part of town, into a black hole full of Tom Ford suits and Stella McCartney dresses.
“Well, would you like a cocktail while you wait?”
“Just this water will be—”
His unbelievably blue eyes shot to the side, and the smile that came over his face transformed that which had been gorgeous into something that defied any description with any infinite number of words. And it wasn’t just his face that was affected. His big body got up as if it were operating independently and without his knowledge, his knees bumping into the lip of the table, rattling the glasses, sloshing the water that had just been poured.
Therese shored herself up as she turned to see what the shellan looked like. Undoubtedly, the female was going to be the kind of thing that made other carbon-based life forms of the ovarian persuasion feel like shutting themselves in a room in the dark with absolutely no mirrors and seven thousand pounds of Hershey’s chocolate—
Therese recoiled. What had entered the dining room, and was taking off a rather practical wool coat, was… normal-looking. Like, not unattractive, but not knock-your-socks-off gorgeous. The female was small, with brown hair that was sensibly cut, and she had an open, makeup-less face that, even without knowing a thing about her, made Therese feel like she could be trusted with anything and everything.
And she wasn’t a vampire. She seemed sort of human, and yet there was something else going on, although it was hard to suss out what exactly it was.
Taking a step back, Therese watched as the beautiful male walked forward and enveloped his mate in his massive arms. As he curled his body around her, you would swear they had been separated by a decade of wartime.
“I missed you,” the male said.
“I just saw you an hour ago,” the shellan murmured with a laugh.
“I know. It’s been hell.”
Therese dropped her eyes out of respect as the two of them said quiet things to each other and sat down at the table. The male took his shellan’s hand and just stared across the glasses, the china, the silverware. It was clear that he didn’t know where he was and didn’t care, because wherever she was was his home. And his love transformed the quiet, calmly attractive woman into something even more beautiful than he was.
Therese watched them for a moment, struck by what love can do. How it could transform. How it could connect. How it could elevate even those with the best looks and the purest hearts.
She had never thought much about matings. Lifelong relationships. Males in particular. And not because she was a born cynic. She’d just been too busy living life to spin fantasies about her future. Now, though, she had the sense she was staring at a miracle.
And the only thing that came to her mind?
That Shadow.
Which made no sense whatsoever—
Abruptly, she became aware that the shellan half of the couple was staring up at her with exactly the same surprise that Mr. Perfect had.
Therese looked back and forth between them. Then she half-heartedly raised her hand in greeting. “Um, hi. I’m Therese, I’ll be your server?”
The shellan blinked a couple of times. “Of course you are. I mean, thank you.”
“Can I start you with a cocktail?” Do you need to see my ID so you know I’m not