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“What do you mean, I can’t spend the night?”

Ignoring the interested glances of the other passengers on the packed Blue & Gold ferry to Tiburon, Ella glared right back at Vadim.

“You can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because you haven’t asked nicely, and I don’t like being taken for granted.

We might be stuck together for life, but it doesn’t mean you own me or anything.

” She walked away from him and looked back at the city.

The incoming fog crawling in under the Golden Gate Bridge was slowly swallowing up the gray, square lines and glinting glass buildings.

“Then why didn’t you say something when I got on this damn boat with you?”

He was right behind her again. His voice was quiet, but fury emanated from every pore.

He wore a long dark coat and blue cashmere scarf that screamed Italian designer.

Tendrils of his black hair danced coyly in the breeze, caressing his awesome cheekbones.

He might look like a model in the middle of a photo shoot, but he was much more than a pretty face.

She shrugged. “I don’t know where you’re living. I assumed you must have moved over here.”

“I haven’t moved anywhere. When the hell did I have time to do that? Alexei left for Russia this evening. I paid off his extortionate bill, but kept my room on.”

“Well, that’s lucky. You can stay on the ferry and go right back again.”

“You know damn well that this is the last one tonight.”

She swiveled to face him, her arms crossed over her chest. “Then you know what you can do, don’t you?”

“What’s that, Ms. Walsh?” He moved so close that she could see into his dark blue eyes. So much bluer than the murky waters of the bay, and so much more dangerous too… His gaze flashed black, and her pulse jumped in her throat.

“You can use magic, Morosov, and fly away home.”

“Yes, I can.” He slowly let out his breath. “What I don’t understand is what the hell is wrong with you. You’ve been treating me like dirt all day.”

“What’s new?” He didn’t lighten up, and she looked away from his intense gaze. “I just need an evening to myself, that’s all.”

Silence greeted her remark. She concentrated on maintaining her mental shields, even though if he really wanted to get through them, he could do it with ease.

“You nearly died yesterday.”

“So?”

“We’ve spent the last twenty-four hours being debriefed by the SBLE authorities, and now I want to sleep for a hundred years. With you.”

“It’s not just your decision, is it?” She hunched a shoulder at him. “Oh, for God’s sake, Morosov, don’t get all primitive and possessive. I really can’t handle it at the moment.”

“You can’t handle it, period. That’s why you don’t want me here. You’re scared.”

“And you aren’t?”

“At least I’m trying to deal with it.”

“Well, good for you.”

The ferry slowed and shuddered against the pull of the tide as, engines churning, it turned clumsily toward the dock. Seagulls flew off the sea wall to encircle the craft, looking for rich pickings from the tourists.

Ella pushed past Vadim and walked over to the stairs that led to the lower deck. She stomped down them and joined the line of passengers ready to exit the boat the moment it docked. She felt rather than saw him fall in behind her.

“Go away, Morosov.”

“I’m just getting off the ferry.”

“And then what will you do? Sit on the beach all night?”

“If I have to.”

The older woman in the line in front of Ella turned around. “Is he annoying you, dear? Do you want me to call the cops?” Her gaze drifted up to Vadim’s. “Wow, he’s really cute. Are you sure you don’t want him, because I’d take him off your hands in a second.”

“Be my guest.” Ella smiled at the woman. “He’s almost house-trained.”

“Ms. Walsh.”

There was a definite note of warning in Vadim’s tone, but when had that ever stopped her?

She turned her attention to the deckhand who was opening the gate and shuffled forward with the rest of the weary commuters.

The salty air hit her like a shot of tequila, and she breathed it in.

After twenty-four hours stuck at the Supernatural Branch of Law Enforcement, she’d wanted to scream.

Only the thought that her testimony would put on record who had been killing empaths had made her stay and endure the endless, repetitive questions from a bunch of morons who should know better.

“Agreed.”

Vadim’s voice echoed in her head. Damn, she must be tired if she couldn’t keep him out at this stage of the evening. She stumbled on the uneven deck, and he attempted to catch her elbow. She jerked away and almost fell again.

“Ella, let me help you. You’re weaving around like a drunk.”

“I’m fine. Go away.”

He took hold of her arm and spun her around to face him. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m taking you home, where we will go to sleep. If you want to continue this discussion in the morning, when we’re both refreshed, I’ll be more than willing to do so.” He paused. “Are you mimicking me?”

“I can’t help it. You get so polite and Russian when you’re pissed with me.”

He let go of her and looked down at the ground. “I can’t do this right now. Can we just go home?”

Without giving him a direct answer, she set off along the coastal path and up the hill, toward her basement apartment. Things really were bad if they didn’t have the energy to fight with each other. He followed her silently, his breathing even, his presence a comfort she refused to acknowledge.

She still couldn’t deal with the fact that she was a) alive and b) mated to an enigma.

She’d confidently expected to go nuts in a week, when she turned twenty-seven.

It happened to empaths. She’d assumed it would happen to her and had lived her whole life accordingly.

But in a strange twist of fate, she’d ended up with Mr. “I’m not quite human” GQ.

She snorted. Strike that. He wasn’t human at all. He was Fae fucking royalty.

“What’s wrong?”

She’d stopped walking and was breathing hard through her nose.

“Nothing!”

Perhaps it was a good idea to let him spend the night. When she’d rested, she’d make sure to interrogate him thoroughly about his family in Otherworld before she let him eat or have sex with her ever again.

Not that she needed to have sex with him like she needed her next breath.

“Do you want a push up the hill?”

“I’m fine, thank you.” She kept walking, her gaze fixed on the looming Victorian house with its white railings, steep steps and gabled roofline.

“I’ll get the door.”

He disappeared ahead of her. Could she do that now? Use magic to get stuff done? She hadn’t actually asked Vadim how much of his power she could control and manipulate, now that they were bonded. She’d tried not to ask him anything at all.

By the time she reached the front door, he’d turned on the lights, started a fire in the grate and put the coffee on.

Her mail was stacked on the countertop, and he was already in the bathroom sloshing water around.

Not that she minded. He would always leave the place cleaner than when he’d entered it.

It was one of his more endearing, yet annoying, habits.

Wearily, she stripped off her coat and hat and threw them toward the back of the couch. All she wanted was a shower and her bed and two days to sleep.

A blast of fragrant steam billowed out of the bathroom, and Vadim came out. He picked up her coat and put it over his arm.

“The shower’s on. You go ahead. Do you want me to bring you some coffee or anything to eat?”

Ella just stared at him until he took her by the hand and gently pushed her into the bathroom.

By the time she opened her mouth to reply, he’d closed the door behind him, leaving her alone.

She took off her clothes and got into the shower, sighing as the hot water streamed over her.

It took all her remaining energy to lift her arms long enough to shampoo her hair.

When she finally rinsed out the conditioner and could see again, a mug of herbal tea stood on the ledge next to her.

Had Vadim come in while she was showering, or was he no longer hiding the extent of his abilities?

She guessed the latter. After sipping the tea, she stepped out onto the fluffy mat and found two warm towels and her favorite pink bunny pajamas awaiting her.

Damn, the man was good.

She dressed and didn’t bother to dry her hair, just wrapped it up in the towel and went back into the kitchen. He was standing at the kitchen counter, drinking coffee and watching something in the toaster. He’d taken off his coat, jacket and tie and rolled up his shirtsleeves.

“Are you sure you don’t want something to eat?”

“No, thanks. I think I’ll head straight to bed.”

He looked up. “Good night, Ella.”

“’Night, Morosov.”

When she closed her bedroom door, she realized he’d put the bedside lamp on and turned on her heated blankie. With a sigh, she threw herself into bed and wrapped the warmed quilt around her. Bliss.

Twenty minutes later she opened one eye and listened intently to the silence around her. Where was Vadim? She couldn’t sleep without knowing what he was doing.

She got out of bed and opened the door a crack. The scent of toasted bread floated over her, but the kitchen was in darkness and so was the bathroom. Had he really gone? A feeling not unlike terror clutched at her heart. She opened the door wider and stepped into the hallway.

“Morosov?”

A slight sound made her peer into the gloom. Was that a hint of white on the couch?

“Ouch!” She recoiled as her knee collided with the chair arm.

“Ella, are you all right?”

She fumbled her way to the seat, still holding her knee, and sat down. “You’re sleeping on the couch?”

“Where else would I sleep?” His voice was low and husky. “It’s better than the beach.”

She touched his leg. “I thought you’d gone.”

“Do you want me to?”

“No.”

His fingers curled around hers, and he brought her hand to his mouth and kissed it. “Then go back to bed.”