Page 119

For a long time, they hadn’t known if Ula and Nisio were alive or dead, although they’d suspected King Sindre of the ice fae was behind their disappearance.

Then their brother Nic had confirmed it, but it was Adric’s sister Marjani who, on a mission to Iceland, had seen them at the ice fae court.

Ula and Nisio were under a geas that bound them to Sindre himself.

But Rosana still couldn’t see them, because apparently each time Dion or any of the do Rio brothers had come to court asking about Ula and Nisio, the king had punished their parents.

Rosana’s throat worked.

She was lucky and she knew it. She’d had a brother who’d stepped in as a father, Isa to mother her, Tiago as a playmate. And then later, there’d been Cleia and now Alesia and little Brisa.

Ula and Nisio had never even seen their granddaughter.

But that didn’t mean Rosana didn’t feel an emptiness, a ragged hole in her soul that no one else could fill.

She rose to her feet. “I’d better get going.”

Cleia smiled up at Rosana. “Have a good time, darling.”

Their eyes met, and Rosana knew that the sun fae had guessed exactly where Rosana was going and with whom. But she also knew Cleia wouldn’t tell Dion unless absolutely necessary.

“Thanks, I will.” She blew a kiss at her niece, who puckered her small mouth back, and then strolled out of the dining hall.

Not hurrying, because that would make her brothers suspicious.

She waited until she was out of sight to speed up.

Back in her room, Rosana threw off her clothes.

Fortunately, Isa had already left for the creche.

Although officially retired, the former nurse still helped with the pups most mornings.

With her round, comfortable body and graying hair, Isa might look like everyone’s idea of a grandma, but she was nobody’s fool.

Rosana shimmied into an ivory chemise and matching boy shorts, a birthday gift from Cleia.

Soft and silky, the fae-made fabric magically molded itself to her body.

Next were a black Henley, skinny jeans and the red kitten-heel boots, another gift from Cleia.

She donned the matching leather jacket and headed to the clan garage.

The good news? There was a car available. The purple sportbike was too noticeable, and besides, she didn’t want to leave it overnight at a busy rest area.

The bad news? The car was in for an oil change and wouldn’t be ready for an hour.

By the time Rosana drove out of the garage, it was nearly noon, and she had no way to contact Adric, because she didn’t have a cell phone. No one in the clan did. Something about a water fada’s physiology shorted out small electronics.

He’ll wait , she told herself as she raced the twenty minutes south to the rest area.

But she didn’t relax until she saw him standing next to a sporty blue Mazda in a T-shirt, black jeans and combat boots, scanning the incoming cars. Their gazes met. His shoulders eased, and he gave her his trademark cocky smile.

But she’d seen that tense expression. He’d been worried she wouldn’t show. She smiled to herself and pulled into a nearby parking space. Adric was right there, opening the door for her.

“Thanks for waiting,” she said. “I’m sorry, I—”

“You’re here.” He stopped her apology with a kiss. “That’s all that matters. This all you brought?”

He reached for her canvas overnight bag while she locked the car.

“That’s it.”

He set a hand on the small of her back and steered her to the Mazda. She dragged in a breath, released it.

“Trouble getting away?” His smile was knowing.

She lifted her chin. “Nothing I couldn’t handle.”

“Good.” He dragged her to him for an open-mouth kiss, and while she was still catching her breath, helped her into his car.

He drove one-handed, wending his way through the Sunday afternoon traffic with ease. His mustard-colored T-shirt clung lovingly to hard, rounded deltoids. His forearms were dusted with soft dark hair, his hands strong, capable.

Anticipation churned in her. Those hands would be on her in just a couple of hours, and she could hardly wait.

But her stomach was jumping with nerves.

Her first time with a man. And she had the added worry of wondering if sex would set off her Gift.

Because sex was the most intimate touch there was.

She stared down at her gloved hands.

Adric reached across the console to brush the backs of his fingers over her cheek. A soft touch that shuddered through her like a promise.

She swallowed hard. You want this , she reminded herself.

Because she did want it, bad. If she had a vision, well, Adric would just have to deal with it.

She stripped off her gloves and shoved them into a pocket.

“Do you know Lewes?” he asked.

“Yeah. I go there with my—” She stopped, bit her lip. The last thing she wanted was to bring up Dion and Tiago. Adric didn’t like her brothers any more than they liked him.

“So you like it?” Adric prompted as if he didn’t know why she’d halted.

She nodded. “It’s a pretty little town. But we go to swim in the ocean. Delaware has some of the cleanest beaches on the East Coast.”

Some of her best memories were going to Lewes with her brothers and spending a few days cruising as their dolphins off the coast, following the currents and snacking on fish.

Adric took her bare hand, the one with the protection charm, and lifted it to his lips. “I like the beach this time of year. It’s cold, but there’s almost no one else out. You have it all to yourself.”

She smiled at him. She hadn’t expected tenderness, not from the hard-ass Baltimore alpha. But his lips were warm and soft as he pressed them to her skin, and his smile had a sweet, almost tentative edge.

He set her hand on his leg but kept hold of it. She tensed, but her Gift was quiet. Maybe, just maybe, she could get through the next twenty-four hours without freaking Adric out by going full Seer-mode on him.

Anticipation buzzed in her veins. She pressed her inner thighs together and concentrated on keeping her breathing even. But Adric was a fada. He could scent her arousal, spicing the small space.

His lips curved in a slow grin.

There. That was the Adric she knew. Sexy with an edge.

The kind of man your brothers warned you about—which only made you want him more.

She grinned back at him.

He responded with a hum that was almost a purr and released her to whip the little car around a semi.

Traffic was light. It wasn’t long until they entered Delaware and turned south toward the beach. Adric fiddled with the radio while the flat terrain unspooled on either side of them, winter fields of tattered cornstalks and soybeans interspersed with shiny-new housing developments.

As they entered Lewes, the billboards and pizza places gave way to charming wood-shingled homes and hip little shops and restaurants.

Crepe myrtle, bare for the winter, arched cinnamon-colored branches in front of painted Victorians with lacy trim.

In the summer, she knew, the tiny yards would overflow with flowers and pots of fragrant herbs.

They took the drawbridge over the Lewes and Rehoboth Canal. The B&B was between the canal and the Delaware Bay. Three stories high and painted an eye-popping turquoise, blue and peach, it was as if a piece of Key West had levitated and flown north to Delaware.

Rosana slung her canvas bag over a shoulder while Adric took a leather jacket and a duffel bag from the backseat.

The building was on stilts to protect against flooding.

To reach the front door, they passed beneath an overhang guarded by a busty carved figurehead like the kind you saw on the prow of a ship, and wound their way through three kayaks, two surfboards and a stand of rusting beach bikes.

Inside, Adric led the way up a stairwell crammed with quirky art—an outsized pig in a red tutu, the head of a laughing cow, a seductive mermaid. They found the proprietor on the second floor in a small, open office, feet propped on his desk, watching a video on his computer.

He came unhurriedly to his feet. Solidly built with salt-and-pepper hair, he was dressed in pink board shorts and flip-flops despite the near-freezing temperature outside.

“Lord Adric,” he said with an easy smile. “You’re right on time. The room’s all ready.”

Adric inclined his head. “Mark. Peace to you and yours.”

“And to you and yours.” Mark turned his smile on Rosana. “Welcome to Lewes,” he said as he took Adric’s cash and noted something on the computer.

She smiled back. “Thank you. And peace to you.”

“You’ve got the Hemingway Suite. Right down that hall.” The innkeeper indicated the hallway to the left as he handed Adric the key. “There’s only one other couple staying the night, and they’re on the third floor. Other than me, you have the second floor to yourself.”

Adric thanked him and, taking Rosana’s hand, led the way down the hall to their room.

“He doesn’t mind us being fada?” she murmured. Humans tended to be wary around shapeshifters, especially dominant ones like Adric.

“Nah. He says my money’s as good as anyone’s. I don’t bother him and he doesn’t bother me.”

“So you’ve stayed here before.”

“A couple of times. I mind my business, and he does the same.”

Rosana quelled a twist of jealousy.

Who? she wanted to ask. Who did you bring those other times?

But she refused to go down that road. She’d known when she walked into the bar last night that Adric wasn’t celibate.

Unlike her.

The Hemingway Suite was dominated by a king-sized bed covered with fake leopard-skin and flanked by two rattan lounge chairs.

A photo of Ernest Hemingway presided over a hutch filled with copies of the author’s books and an old-fashioned typewriter, and the sliding glass door was covered with blinds made of wood slats.

“Nice.” Rosana set her bag on one of the rattan chairs and hung her leather jacket on a hook near the door. “I’m impressed.”