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There was far too much Grace had kept from him when she’d asked him to sponsor Lance’s daughter.
Stepping away from Kat took a surprising amount of effort. She looked up at him, those beautiful eyes a little dazed, a bit disappointed. His fangs twinged in frustration.
“I think we’d better go back inside,” Ridge managed hoarsely, “and dance.”
hey drove through the moonlit night, the Porsche’s headlights spearing the darkness. In the green glow from the dash, Ridge shot Kat a look of concern. She’d danced and joked throughout the evening, teasing him subtly with a brush of fingertips here, a ripple of laughter there. She knew just how much he wanted her now, and she’d seemed determined to test his control.
But as the evening wore on, Ridge had sensed a growing tension in her. Now as they drove into her housing development, the tension hit a vibrating peak that irritated him like the rasp of sandpaper over bare skin. Does she think I’m going to lunge for her throat?
Yet, as they wheeled into the driveway, Kat’s attention seemed focused on the house rather than him. She was out of the car before he had time to turn off the engine.
Ridge’s brows shot up as he watched her clip up the brick walkway as fast as her tight skirt would allow, fumbling her keys out of her overcoat pocket as she went. He opened the car door and strode after her.
“Mom?” she called as she wrestled the door open.
“Baby?” Her mother’s voice floated from somewhere upstairs.
Kat’s shoulders slumped in relief. “I’m home!”
She turned and gave Ridge a smile as he walked up behind her. “I had a lovely evening.”
“That’s good.” Ridge studied her with narrow eyes. “What were you so afraid of?” He could smell the fading scent of her fear, hear her heartbeat slowing its desperate thump. “I was starting to wonder if you thought I was going to jump you.”
Kat looked honestly startled. “Oh, no. Nothing like that.” Her laughter sounded a bit forced. “I just . . . worry about my mom. I guess I’m a little paranoid.”
“You want me to check the house?”
“No. No, that’s fine. We’re fine.”
Ridge tucked his hands in his overcoat pockets and studied her thoughtfully. “All right. If you’re sure.”
“I’m sure.” That smile was definitely forced.
“Look, we need to meet tomorrow night. I’d like a better idea of how you’d handle yourself in a fight.”
Her blond brows lifted. “Ridge, I’m a fitness instructor.”
“I’m aware of that.” The dossier had mentioned that much at least. “But being fit doesn’t mean you know what to do when someone’s trying to hurt you.”
He got the distinct impression she was grinding her teeth, but she restricted herself to a nod. “You’re the boss.”
“Yes. I am. I’ll pick you up at seven.”
FOUR
Ridge’s house was a three-story Mediterranean villa in golden stucco, its windows arched, its low roof red ceramic tile. Impressive though it was, it looked modest next to towering Mageverse neighbors that included a Germanic castle and a sprawling Gilded Age mansion.
“Who builds these houses?” Kat asked, eye
ing the crenellated walls towering over the trees next door.
Ridge shrugged. “Majae, usually. It takes a lot of magic to build a house like this. Generally you barter services, though a Maja may give you a house as a gesture of gratitude.”
She grinned, swinging the athletic bag she carried in one hand. “And what did you do to win a witch’s gratitude?”
“Saved her from a Death Cult assassin.” His smile was sly and very male. “She was very, very grateful.”
“I’ll bet.”
