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For some reason, my attention returned to mysupposed husband. His lips compressed into a thin line. Had I said the wrong thing? Or oh so right?
“My apologies,” an unfamiliar voice announced from the doorway. Soft and hesitant, sweet and feminine.
I pivoted to find a young woman had joined us. My eyes widened. She looked like the woman I’d seen in photos on Callen’s computer. Sorcha, the missing live-in girlfriend. The newcomer wasn’t Sorcha, though, but a more subdued version of her. Mirren’s aunt, I’d guess.
His expression returned to one of indulgence as he nodded at the newcomer. “Hello, Gavina.” His voice even dipped with affection. And I wasn’t envious. I wasn’t!
She smiled shyly at him. “Hello, Callen.” Her gaze darted to me, and the color drained from her cheeks. “I mean Mr. Bruce. I mean Sir. I’m happy to see you again, but in a completely innocent way. Before I forget, we ate peas, as suggested. Well, a pea. We split it. It was the only bargain the little sugar would agree to.”
Her reaction to him aroused my curiosity. I glanced from one adult to the other. Did the two have something going on? Was it Gavina who’d called me a shrew? Did she double as Callen’s lover?
I pressed my nails against the cover of my book. If he kept a mistress, I would…I’d…argh! I didn’t know.
After Callen and Mirren discussed the bravery she’d displayed when she’d choked down the pea half, I focused on Gavina. “Hello. I’m Elle. The wife. Also known as the shrew.”
Callen cast a frown in my direction.
“What?” I asked, spreading my arms. “Did I misspeak?”
“My tutor, Miss Hanes, called you a shrew,” Mirren informed me. “Gavina said you’ve had a hard life, and that I’ve got to be nice to you. But there’s no reason to be nice,since you’re gonna die and all. That’s what always happens to Daddy’s girlfriends.”
“Fire the tutor,” Callen snapped at Gavina.
Exactly how many girlfriends had died? And did he just stand up for me?
The other woman paled again, her features twisting with horror. “Aye, of course. I should’ve fired her already. You both have my sincerest apologies,” she rasped, glancing between Callen and me. “Our sweet Mirren has been obsessed with death ever since—well. Never mind.”
Ever since her mother’s death? My chest tightened. Yeah, I could understand that.
“I’m Gavina Barron, Mirren’s aunt. So lovely to meet you at last.” The beauty nodded at me before turning to the little girl. “Mirren, honey, we talked about this.” She closed in on father and daughter and held out her arms. “Come on. Your da has work to do.”
“I’m stayin’.” Mirren angled away from her aunt, clinging to a man she clearly adored. “No bargains. That’s final!”
“Leave her with me.” Callen kissed his daughter’s brow.
“Aye, sir.” Gavina shrunk into herself, as if she’d been rebuked.
The schoolteacher in me yearned to jump in and take over; the circumstances kept me silent. Every family lived by their own set of rules. Between mortals, I could navigate the different dynamics. But what did I know about berserker families or their regulations, traditions and laws?
“That isn’t my sweet Mira I hear throwing such a ferocious temper tantrum is it?”
A new voice sounded from the doorway, but this one I recognized. Jamison Stewart. AKA Handsome. He entered the office, looking nothing like theman I’d met at the wedding reception. Before he’d worn a suit. Today, he’d dressed in Tavish’s original style. Black T-shirt and leather pants paired with scuffed combat boots. Metal jewelry adored his wrists and fingers.
“Prince Jamie!” Mirren squealed with happiness and wiggled to get down.
Prince? As in a brother to Callen, like Roderick?
“You know you’re not supposed to use his title in public, Mir.” With a wry smile, Callen complied with his daughter’s wishes, putting her on her feet.
I filed away the newest bit of confirmation.
“Mr. Jamie!” the girl called, rushing over to leap into the other man’s arms. He caught her and spun her around, and the two laughed.
Gavina performed a curtsy, her eyes lowered and her cheeks pink. “It’s an honor to see you again, Mr. Stewart.”
“And you as well, Gavina.” With ten levels of disdain, he tossed a stiff nod my way, his good humor erased. “Mrs. Bruce.”
Man, I’d thought my confidence bulletproof, but hit after hit of rejection could really give a gal a complex.
