Page 19 of Brushed By Moonlight

A low, menacing growl built in Roux’s throat — aimed at Henrik, not me, thank goodness.

“Now, I suggest you four head outside and hold a little powwow,” I said. “That way, you can consider your priorities and decide on the course of action you’d like to take.”

That would also keep my grandmother’s china safe if a fight broke out — and keep the Persian carpet clean if blood happened to be spilled.

God, I should have known Gordon’s deal was too good to be true.

“I’m sure that won’t be necessary,” Roux rumbled in his best commander’s voice.

But a commander needed followers, and the other three were not thefollowingtype.

“Will it?” he barked at Henrik.

Henrik socked me with a nasty, red-eyed glare — until a deep snarl made him blink.

Me too, because that was Marius, not Roux, warning him. Clearly, the dragon shifter was just as desperate to keep this job as the other three.

“I said, I’m sure a meeting is not necessary. Is it, Henrik?” Roux demanded.

When the vampire shifted his gaze to the tiger, a weight dropped from my shoulders. Whew.

“No, it won’t,” Henrik finally muttered.

I exhaled very, very slowly. For a long, awkward minute, silence reigned. Then Bene spoke up.

“So, about breakfast…”

I regretted ever letting Henrik in, but thank goodness for Bene — the sole ray of sunshine in this otherwise surly gang.

“Fifteen minutes,” I muttered, walking to the kitchen. On the way, I called over my shoulder to Bene, “Ten if I get a little help.”

The lion shifter flashed a sunny smile and fell into step beside me. “Always happy to assist, ma’am.”

I strode away, as regal and unperturbed as a queen. But the moment I reached the kitchen, I slumped, bracing myself on the counter with both hands.

“You okay?” Bene whispered.

I mustered a weak smile. Who knew a lion could be so sweet?

“Just wondering if I took things too far.”

“Just about right, I’d say.” He patted me on the back, then moved to the pantry. “Now, about breakfast. May I suggest you leave the coffee to me?”

I laughed out loud. Maybe I would live to see the end of this day. Maybe I could keep this desperately needed contract from falling apart. Maybe calling on my bitchy side hadn’t been a mistake.

And maybe, just maybe, I could accept a little help from time to time.

“It’s all yours.” I grinned, waving Bene to the moka pot. “It’s all yours.”

Chapter Six

MINA

The confrontation over breakfast had drained me, so I spent the morning on an easy, mindless task — painting the last third of the hallway leading to the east wing an off-white color calledAntique Lace. Madame Picard arrived at eleven to manage meals, and thank goodness for that.

I tiptoed into the kitchen an hour after the men had lunch, not ready to face them yet.

“Sit. Eat. You work too much,” Madame Picard recited her usual refrain.