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Grace

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Grace still felt shaky as she and Rafa got in the Protection, Inc. elevator. She’d been through a lot of nerve-wracking situations as a stage manager, from a fire effect going wrong and burning off the leading lady’s eyebrows to having a black cat suddenly run across the stage in the middle of a performance. Living in Florida had gotten her used to hurricanes, tropical storms, floods, tornados, wildfires, and alligators. Not to mention discovering that her boyfriend was a criminal.

But she’d never been in a situation where anyone’s life had been threatened, or been involved in anything more violent than helping to restrain a furious actor whose co-star had decided that it would add a welcome touch of realism to the show if he made a fake slap into a real one.

Rafa’s handsome face was streaked with blood, his usually-perfect hair sticky with it. But his arm was strong around her waist. He’d reacted like lightning to shield her, before she’d even realized anything was wrong. She ought to be terrified. But with her mate beside her, she felt protected and safe.

The elevator door opened with a ding, and they stepped into the lobby.

Grace had expected it to be packed with a menacing crowd of Rafa’s teammates, all just waiting to throw the worst they could manage at her. But the lobby only held two women, both as short and curvy as Grace herself. They gave Grace and Rafa friendly smiles.

“Hi,” said the one with curling sandy hair and blue-green eyes. “I’m Ellie McNeil. I’m married to Hal, Rafa’s boss. Pleased to meet you.”

No sooner had Grace shaken her hand than the other woman, who had straight black hair and brown eyes, seized it. “And I’m Catalina Mendez, one of Rafa’s teammates.”

Here it comes, Grace thought, and braced herself for the hazing. But Catalina simply said, “I’m also a paramedic. So is Ellie. Are you hurt?”

“No, but Rafa is. You should take care of him.”

“I don’t need a paramedic for a few tiny cuts,” he began.

Catalina stood on her tiptoes, grabbed him by the shoulders, and shoved him down on the sofa. “Maybe not, but you’re getting one anyway.” She opened a medical bag and began to check him over.

“Have a seat,” Ellie said to Grace, and indicated the sofa.

Grace sat down beside Rafa, who was rolling his eyes as Catalina applied antiseptic wipes to his face.

“I’m fine,” Rafa protested.

“Sometimes people get such an adrenaline rush that they don’t even notice that they’re hurt,” Catalina said. “So sit tight and let us check you. The less you argue, the sooner you’ll be done.”

Grace liked the paramedics already. They were obviously concerned for Rafa. She sat still and let Ellie inspect her for injuries, then take her pulse and listen to her heart. Maybe the whole hazing thing was overblown. Rafa had said he’d warned off everyone but Destiny, so probably that guilt trip was all of the gauntlet Grace would have to run.

Relaxing, she glanced around the lobby. It wasn’t what she’d expected from a bodyguard agency. She’d imagined sleek and uncomfortable furniture made of steel and plastic, walls lined with testimonials from grateful famous clients plus photos of the bodyguards looking tough, and brochures with titles like Home Security for the Wealthy and Paranoid and Protecting Your Pooch.

There were no brochures of any kind, only a rack of magazines with pretty pictures, like National Geographic and American Wildlife. The sofa was made of dark wood and black leather, and the rest of the furniture matched it. The floor was polished hardwood. A table held bowls of old-fashioned movie candy like Jordan almonds and Junior Mints and Sugar Babies. Beautiful orchids grew in pots on the windowsills. The effect was professional, but also cozy and reassuring—which, Grace supposed, was exactly what a bodyguard agency probably wanted to convey.

But it was the pictures on the wall that captured her attention. They were big color photos of animals in their natural habitats: a pride of lions, a wolf, a grizzly bear...

“Ah-ha!” Grace exclaimed, and poked Rafa in the ribs. “Those are you guys, right? You’re the lion!”

“You got it,” Rafa said.

“I’m the leopard.” Catalina pointed out her photo.

Grace looked at it, then back at the woman. On first glance, it was hard to imagine. On second glance, there was something feline about Catalina, much as Rafa’s movements embodied a lion’s confidence and power.

“It shouldn’t have taken everyone else this long to get here,” Rafa said suddenly. “Where are they?”

“Right here.”

The voice came out of nowhere. Grace leaped up from the sofa, her heart slamming into her ribs.

A man was standing right there in the middle of the room. A deadly man—a terrifying man—the hit man come to kill Rafa!

Grace shouted at the top of her theatre-trained lungs, “RAFA! GET HIM!”

And then, to distract the hit man, she snatched up the nearest object—a bowl of Reese’s Pieces—and hurled it at his head.

The hit man ducked. Reese’s Pieces flew all over the office, and the wooden bowl bounced off the wall and smashed an orchid pot. Rafa grabbed the hit man and slammed him into the wall.

“Ow,” remarked the hit man.

“How dare you!” Rafa shouted, his cheeks dark with fury. “This is the worst yet!”

The hit man seemed completely unruffled, either by the yelling or the slamming. “Oh, I wouldn’t say that. Lucas hissed at my mate. That was the worst, right, Catalina?”

“Actually, I think the worst is what Fiona said to Raluca,” Catalina put in. “She implied that Raluca cared more about her designer dresses than she did about her mate.”

“Hmm.” Ellie scratched her head. “That’s meaner, but Fiona implying that Journey was a gold-digger was ruder. Fiona still wins.”

By then Grace had figured it out. “Rafa? This is the dragon guy, right?”

“No, this jerk is Shane, a panther shifter,” Rafa replied. “Lucas is the dragon.”

Puzzled, Grace said, “But you said dragon shifters are the ones who can turn invisible.”

“Only when they’re actual dragons,” explained Shane over Rafa’s shoulder.

Shane made a quick movement, too fast for Grace to see exactly what he’d done, and extracted himself from Rafa’s grip. He picked his way across the floor, avoiding the Reese’s Pieces, and offered Grace his hand. “Shane Garrity. Pleased to meet you.”

More baffled than angry, she shook it. “Grace Chang. What’s with the invisibility?”

“It’s not really invisibility,” Shane explained. “It’s unnoticeability. If any of you had thought to look for me, you’d have seen me.”

That hardly answered Grace’s question. She tried again. “How come you can do it, though? Is it a panther thing? I guess camouflage would be useful for a predator.”

Shane’s ice-blue eyes flickered, and his mouth tightened. It was only for a second, and then his cool expression returned. But Grace knew what she’d seen. She didn’t know how or why, but she’d gotten to him.

“Yeah, something like that,” he said, a beat too late. “You’re brave, though. Good reflexes. And you trust your mate. Well done.”

A woman’s voice called out, “Shane, sweep up those Reese’s Pieces before everyone stomps them into the floor!”

Grace turned. A door had opened while she’d been distracted. A woman with platinum-blonde hair and clear green eyes stood framed in the doorway, with more people crowded behind her. The blonde woman tossed Shane a broom and dustpan. He caught them neatly, and began to sweep.

Ellie and Catalina burst into giggles. Grace was still more confused than amused, but had to laugh when she saw Shane sweep out a candy-free path to the door, so the others could come crowding in.

“Not okay, Shane,” Rafa growled. “Not okay, everyone! I can’t believe you all got in on it. Ellie and Catalina, even! And you know what it feels like.”

“Hal talked me into it,” Ellie said. “Blame him.”

“Shane talked me into it,” Catalina said. “You can blame me, though. Once he explained what he wanted to do, I thought it would be too funny not to go along with it.”

Rafa glared at her. “After Grace got shot at?”

Unrepentant, Catalina said, “I figured it would cheer her up, once she realized what was going on. Come on, it was hilarious! And if she can’t take some teasing, then she’s not a good mate for you anyway.”

Grace checked for stray candies underfoot, then went and caught Rafa’s arm. “It’s okay. I forgive them. They were just trying to look out for you, in a very strange way. And hey, you were right: I’m nowhere near the weirdest one in the room.”

Catalina and Ellie snickered again.

“You’re right about that,” Rafa muttered, but seemed to cool off.

“That is, I forgive them if that’s it,” Grace added. She looked around the room, catching everyone’s eyes. “It is, right? No more hilarious little surprises?”

“Nope. That was it. We decided to all go in on Shane’s test. You pass.” The man who spoke was burlier than Rafa and an inch or two taller, with brown hair and hazel eyes. He held out his hand. “I’m Hal Brennan. Welcome to Protection, Inc.”

After that, the others crowded around.

The blonde woman introduced herself as Fiona Payne. Grace shook her hand, wondering if what Catalina and Ellie had said about her had been part of the hazing or was actually true. Fiona seemed perfectly friendly, but there was something about her cool green eyes that made Grace suspect that it was true.

“I am Lucas, and I am very honored to meet you.” The young man with a gold chain around his throat offered her his hand with the slightest awkwardness, as if it was a greeting he wasn’t quite accustomed to. His hand was very hot when she shook it, as if he’d come in from a blazing summer day rather than a cold winter night.

Nick, still in his black leather jacket, offered her an apology as well as a handshake. “Sorry about today. I had no fucking clue Rafa hadn’t told you he got married by Elvis. I mean, I also had no fucking clue you even existed.”

“Nick...” Rafa began.

Guessing that he wasn’t thrilled either by the reminder or the language, Grace caught both their eyes and replied, “Don’t fucking worry about it.”

Nick laughed. After a moment, Rafa chuckled.

At last, Grace and Destiny came face to face.

“So, apparently we’re related,” Grace said.

“We’re cousins, yeah,” Destiny said, nodding.

“Did you always know that?”

Destiny shook her head. “Nope. I figured it out just now, when you told Shane your full name. I’d heard you were in Santa Martina and I knew you were doing something in theatre, but I didn’t put it together till then. Sorry I never looked you up.”

“Sorry I never looked you up,” Grace replied.

“Well, here we are now. One more for the girls’ club!” Destiny glanced at Fiona. “We outnumber the boys now.”

It took Grace a moment to put her words and glance together. Once she did, she realized what it meant: all the men had found their mates. Only Destiny and Fiona were still alone. Destiny had spoken cheerfully and Fiona hadn’t reacted at all, but Grace wondered if they were lonely.

Hal’s deep voice cut through the chatter. “Everyone, come on in to the board room. We need to discuss how we’re going to protect Grace and her show.”

Rafa led Grace into a room with a bunch of chairs grouped around a large table. There were sandwiches and sodas on the table, which came as a relief to Grace. She hadn’t eaten anything all day after breakfast but a pair of cupcakes. She and the bodyguards ate as Rafa got them up to speed on the situation with Mars: The Musical.

When he was finished, Fiona said, “Rafa asked me to look into the possibility that someone involved with My Fair Lady is behind this. An amateur could have bribed someone working on Mars to sabotage it. But this murder attempt was professional. So if it is someone from My Fair Lady, my guess is that the show is backed by organized crime. I think the best way to find out is for me to go undercover over there.”

“Go for it,” Hal said. “Though I’m wondering if the plot might have succeeded already.”

“What do you mean?” asked Grace.

Rafa was the one who explained. “Up till now, you and Paris were the only people working on Mars who believed that anything dangerous was happening. Now everyone knows—and they know it could cost them their lives. They might just quit.”

“You could quit,” Hal said. “Think about it. Is this show worth risking your life? You could find another job...”

Grace didn’t need to think about it. Indignantly, she said, “I’m not getting run off my own show. It’s not about the money. It’s the principle of the thing. The show must go on!”

“Let’s hope everyone else feels that way,” said Hal.

“Couldn’t this be the end of it, though?” Grace asked. “The person who shot at us is dead. Maybe he was the same person who arranged the accidents inside the theatre. I’d been thinking it was someone working on the show, but it could have been someone who snuck in and out without anyone noticing. If it was just one man and he’s dead, maybe whoever hired him will just give up.”

“Maybe,” said Hal. “But we need to take some precautions in case they don’t. Rafa can protect everyone while they’re all at the theatre, and he can stay with you wherever you go. But we’ve already had one attack outside of the theatre, and there’s over thirty people working on the show. I can’t assign bodyguards to all of them.”

Grace’s heart sank. It seemed like an impossible task. But when she glanced around the table, she saw that nobody looked particularly worried. Instead, they all leaned forward, nodding, as if this was a situation they’d encountered before.

“Fiona will be working elsewhere,” Hal went on. “I can get the whole team out tomorrow morning to make sure there’s no more snipers. But after that, the rest of us will be on other assignments. So...”

“Invisible Man?” asked Rafa.

Hal nodded. “You got it. Now, here’s how we’ll run it...”

The bodyguards spent hours reviewing the situation and the best plan for dealing with it, periodically asking Grace for details on how the show was run and the personalities of the people in it. By the end of the meeting, she felt reassured. More, she felt at home. Hazing aside, the team was as professional and organized as even a stage manager could desire, and like one, they carefully worked out everything that could possibly go wrong and figured out what to do to avoid it or, if they couldn’t assure that, what to do if it happened.

Once the team had figured out their overall plan and were working on the details, Grace went to the other end of the room and started calling everyone from Mars, making sure they were safe, telling them that the rehearsal tomorrow was still on and they’d be protected there too, and doing her best to reassure them.

Paris asked her if she’d worked things out with Rafa, and sounded happy when Grace said that she had. Melissa asked about “that repulsive rodent,” and sounded disappointed when Grace assured her that Tycho was fine. Carl wanted to know if Grace was all right, Lubomir gloomily remarked that he’d thought all the American movies where people have shoot-outs in the streets were fiction, and Brady said he was glad she’d called, as after thinking it over, he’d realized that he just didn’t like strawberry jello. He asked her if it could be switched to cherry.

At the end of the meeting, Hal suggested that Grace and Rafa spend the night at Protection, Inc. rather than returning to his apartment or hers.

“It’s more secure,” Hal explained.

“We have bedrooms,” Rafa assured her.

“And spare clothes,” added Destiny. “I’ll loan you some of mine. We look about the same size.”

Everyone else departed, leaving Grace and Rafa alone in the building.

“I meant to show you around,” he said. “I think you’d love our tech room. But it’s getting late...”

“Getting?” Grace yawned. “Excuse me.”

“Definitely late.”

Rafa led her to a small bedroom that was almost completely taken up with a big bed. They undressed and climbed in. Grace curled into his comforting warmth. Her eyelids felt swollen and heavy. She was used to staying up late, but she felt crushingly exhausted.

“Sorry I’m too tired...” she murmured.

He pulled her closer, letting her pillow her head on his shoulder. “Don’t worry about it. Getting shot at takes a lot out of you. Besides, we’ve got plenty of nights to come, right?”

She wasn’t sure if she answered him aloud or not. But the thought of plenty of nights with Rafa sent her straight into a deep and pleasant sleep.

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If Grace had been asked to guess how she’d feel the morning after she’d thought she’d been lied to by the man she loved, then worked the rest of the day, then survived a murder attempt, then got scared half to death, she’d have said, “Terrible.”

But when she opened her eyes the next morning, she was filled with a sense of contentment, even renewal. She lay enfolded in Rafa’s arms, safe and sound. He was still asleep, with his sleek hair falling across her face and his. The covers had been pushed aside, and his muscular body seemed poured across the bed in total relaxation. And yet she was certain that if there was any danger, he’d be up and ready to fight on her behalf before she could blink.

Testing, she whispered, “Rafa?”

Her voice was so soft that a person standing in the door of the small room wouldn’t have heard her. But he instantly opened his eyes, alert but unalarmed, and said, “I want to wake up next to you every morning for the rest of my life.”

Grace still wasn’t used to all that love directed at her. It was like she’d been a flower planted in the desert, and suddenly the heavens had opened up and rain had poured down, giving her everything she needed to grow.

She swallowed. “Me too.”

Next thing she knew, he was out of bed and scooping her into his arms. She squeaked in surprise, then relaxed and let him carry her into the shower.

There’s nothing in the world that feels as good as having hot water pour down on you while the man you love shampoos your hair, Grace thought as he did exactly that. Except waking up in his arms. And having sex with him.

Now that her life contained Rafa, an endless vista of “No, this is the best” moments stretched out in front of her.

When he was done with her hair, she got him to sit down so she could do the same to him. She inspected the choices of shampoo and conditioner curiously. “These are awfully nice for the spare room in a security agency. Did you pick them so you’d always have something good for your mane?”

With absolutely no self-consciousness, he replied, “Yes.”

Grinning, Grace worked the fancy shampoo through his hair. It slid through her fingers like silk. She teased him, “Did you decorate the office too?”

“No, Fiona and Hal did that. She did the whole thing originally, except for the photos on the wall. Those were Hal’s idea. But she used to have a white sofa and white carpeting, until Hal switched to black leather and hardwood floors.”

“More masculine?”

“Easier to clean. Nick ruined two sofas in a row, and then Hal put his foot down.”

“What did he do, spill beer on them?”

Rafa looked up at her, his dark eyes serious. “No. Blood.”

Unsettled, Grace didn’t ask for more details. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know. But there was something else she couldn’t resist asking about. “Destiny said you got your arm slashed open by a gangster and bled all over the floor. When you said she was hazing me, I thought you meant she’d made up the whole story. Did she?”

“No. She told it to mess with you, but it’s a true story. It happened right after Nick wrecked the sofa the second time. That was it for Fiona’s ‘snowy mountains’ color scheme.” Rafa spoke lightly, but Grace didn’t miss the way he was watching her.

“I’m not going to run screaming, if that’s what you’re thinking,” she said. “It is scary, though. How often do you guys get hurt?”

“Hardly ever,” he assured her. “That is, it’s hardly ever anything serious. Little cuts like I got last night, sure. But you can see those are gone now.”

He tipped up his face for her inspection. Sure enough, she couldn’t even see where they had been. Then he displayed his arm, tracing a line down his bulging biceps. “See? That’s from memory. There’s no scar.”

“How’d the gangster get the drop on you with a knife, anyway?”

“It wasn’t a knife, it was a saber-tooth tiger fang.” Rafa shrugged. “And, well, that’s how. I was expecting a shifter, but not that kind of shifter. I didn’t even know they existed. It caught me by surprise, and then he caught me by surprise.”

Grace eyed him suspiciously, wondering if he was pulling her leg. “Uh-huh. A saber-tooth tiger. A saber-tooth tiger gangster.”

“You know a dragon,” he pointed out. “And a werewolf ex-gangster.”

“That doesn’t surprise me,” she remarked. “Nick has ‘gone straight’ written all over him. Okay. I’ll believe the saber-tooth tiger gangster.”

They turned off the shower and got dressed. Destiny had thoughtfully provided clothing in as close to Grace’s style as she could manage. As she put on the black lace dancing dress, she thought again about what Rafa had said.

“You said you hardly ever got seriously hurt on the job,” Grace said. “How often is ‘hardly ever?’”

“I never have. Neither has Catalina. Or Fiona. Or Destiny. Well, Destiny might argue that one. Before Nick switched sides, he bit her deep enough to leave a scar. She’s never let him forget it. But that’s just because it shows when she wears a tank top.” Rafa stopped talking, and his smile faded.

“What about the rest of you?”

“Hal got shot once,” he admitted. “So did Shane. Nick... It’s a long story, but he got hurt badly enough that it took him a month to recover. And Lucas got poisoned and nearly died.”

“Poisoned!” She stared at him. “How did that happen?”

“That’s another long story.” Rafa’s dark gaze settled on her, serious and intense. “Short version is, he was protecting his mate. That’s what happened to all of them. They weren’t careless, but I guess they were less willing to protect themselves if there was even a chance of their mate getting hurt instead. I didn’t quite understand that before, but I do now.”

“I don’t want you to get yourself killed to prevent me from getting scratched!” Grace burst out.

Rafa seemed taken aback. “That’s not what I meant. Their mates’ lives were in danger.”

“I don’t want you to sacrifice yourself for me,” she repeated, because it didn’t seem to be sinking in.

He folded his arms across his chest. Stubbornness radiated from every inch of him, like he was some immovable boulder. “Protecting you is my job. And my heart. I can’t promise that.”

Frustrated, she said, “What do you think it’ll do to my heart if you take a bullet for me? Rafa, imagine how you’d feel if I did it for you!”

Instantly, he said, “Don’t do it for me!” Then he seemed to replay his words in his mind. With audible reluctance, he said, “I’ll take care of myself too.”

That was obviously as far as he’d go, so she had to accept that.

Love is scary, she thought as they set out for the theatre. Even if you trust the person you love. You just switch from being scared that they’ll betray you to being scared that they’ll take a bullet for you.

All the same, she wouldn’t trade Rafa and his selfless courage for anything. To think that she’d tried to talk herself into dating Carl, just because she was lonely and he was a nice guy who liked her. That would have been as much of a disaster as Rafa’s Vegas marriage.

You can’t force a relationship, Grace thought. There’s no substitute for love.

They pulled into the parking lot. She couldn’t help glancing around nervously as she got out of the car. Hit men could be anywhere...

Rafa also looked around, but with no more than his usual alertness. “Don’t forget the plan. My team’s been combing the area for hours already. They wouldn’t have missed a sniper.”

Reassured, Grace walked to the theatre. She unlocked it, and they went straight up to her booth. The nanny cam had been replaced by an elaborate closed-circuit camera system. It also had a monitor that enabled her to see backstage, but the resolution was far better and it was clearly a more reliable system.

“That’ll be great for when I run the show. I’ll be able to see what’s going wrong backstage before anyone even tells me about it.” Belatedly, she added, “And see if anyone’s trying to kill anyone or sabotage the show, of course.”

“I love your priorities,” Rafa remarked with a grin.

The actors, musicians, and crew arrived as they climbed down from the booth, all of them nervous and fidgety. Grace called them into a circle.

Rafa explained what had happened, and told them about the closed-circuit cameras and that he would stay on to guard the theatre.

That seemed to relieve them, until a violinist put up her hand. “But Grace got shot at outside the theatre. I know we’re safe inside, but what about when we leave? You can’t guard all of us.”

“Sure we can,” said Shane, emerging from the shadows.

Everybody jumped, even Grace, who had known he was going to do that. Melissa let out a shrill scream, and Carl spilled the coffee he’d been handing to Lubomir.

A chorus of “How did you do that?” rose up. Shane stood there, unsmiling and surrounded by a near-palpable air of danger, until the questions died into an uneasy silence.

“That’s my teammate Shane,” said Rafa. “We call him ‘The Invisible Man.’”

Nobody laughed. The people who were nearest to Shane tried to unobtrusively slide farther away.

“You won’t see me again.” Shane’s ice-blue gaze swept over the crowd. A chill of fear came over Grace as it touched her, and she involuntarily drew back. “But I’ll see you. If anyone tries to attack you, I’ll see them, too.”

Without another word, he turned and walked out. Another silence fell as he vanished into the shadows. Everyone glanced around, visibly unnerved.

Grace carefully avoided looking at Rafa. It would ruin her straight face if she did. She just hoped the ploy would work on the person it was actually aimed at—the secret enemy. She sure wouldn’t risk attacking anyone if she thought Shane was lurking invisibly in the shadows at all times.

“I believe that we’ll be safe from now on,” Lubomir said. “But I can’t make that decision for you. If you don’t want to risk working on the show, you’re free to leave.”

Everyone looked at each other. Grace held her breath. This was the part that worried her. If a few people quit, the show would survive. But if lots of them did, that would be it. The mysterious enemy would have closed down the show.

And then what would happen to her relationship with Rafa? Would he follow her back to Delbert-on-the-Sea? Would she stay in Santa Martina, living off his money because she was unable to support herself? Grace couldn’t decide which of those options she hated more. She treasured her independence. But she couldn’t force Rafa to leave his job.

Lubomir nodded at Grace.

“Show of hands,” she said, her stomach clenching with anxiety. “Who wants to leave?”

Nobody moved. After a moment, Tycho, who was in his usual position on Ruth’s shoulder, gave a loud squeak.

Melissa did too.

“The show must go on!” Paris said. “Even Tycho says so.”

Melissa’s lip curled as she glared at the rat, but she agreed, “The show must go on!”

“No one chases us off our own show,” the props guy declared. “We are Mars: The Mighty!”

A chorus of “Mars: The Mighty!” arose, then broke off in laughter.

Paris leaned over to pet Tycho, then gave Ruth a pet too. She had obviously either done Ruth’s hair herself or given her advice, because it was no longer scraped into a painful-looking bun. Instead, it was in a practical but pretty French braid down her back. Ruth no longer looked cranky, but sat leaning against Paris’s side, smiling as she sipped a cup of steaming tea.

Rafa squeezed Grace’s hand. “See? Everything’s going to work out.”

For the first time, she believed it.

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When the rehearsal ended, Rafa drove her to his apartment. It was spacious and well-furnished, but impersonal: like “the ideal apartment for a single man” from an article in GQ, not a place where a real person lived. The only thing that wasn’t perfect was a vase full of dead roses.

Rafa tossed them in the trash. “So much for scattering petals on the bed.”

“Some other time.” Eyeing the spotless, velvety sofa, Grace asked, “Don’t you ever just kick back, order pizza, and eat it while you’re watching TV?”

“I do, but I sit on the floor.”

“What’s the point of a sofa you can’t sit on?”

“To impress the mate I was hoping I’d find,” he confessed. “Though now that I’ve found her, I’m realizing that any mate I’d actually want would say exactly what you just did.”

Grace flopped down on the sofa, dangling her feet over the arm. “There. Come break it in with me.”

Rafa looked down at her with a fire in his dark eyes that kindled an answering heat in her. “Don’t move.”

He turned the lights down to a soft glow and put on some instrumental music.

He’s the romantic one, Grace thought. Sure, he wants to please me, but he likes it too. I’m the one who eats roses, but he’s the one who’s disappointed that his roses died.

But she wanted to please him, too. Sure, she’d have been just as happy having a quickie under the sound board or in the closet, but if Rafa liked soft lights and romantic music, then she had no problem going along with that.

Her breathing grew faster as she watched him undress. She still wasn’t used to seeing that powerful male body naked before her, for her to touch and please and be pleased by. A desperate urge seized her to stroke and caress him, from his broad shoulders and muscular arms to the steely hardness of his huge erection.

“Rafa!” She held out her arms to him.

He stepped toward her, his footsteps silent as a cat’s. She felt dizzy with desire as he bent over her and stripped her bare. The sofa was soft and velvety against her skin, and his fingers were burning hot. Or maybe she was the one who was burning. He kissed her, his lips and tongue just as hot as the rest of him, and she pulled him in closer.

When he straddled her, she gave an involuntary moan and thrust up until the entire length of his shaft was inside her. She clenched around him as he began to thrust in and out, in an irresistible rhythm. The silk of his skin, the velvet of the sofa, the soft lights, the music—all of it blended together into an atmosphere of overwhelming sensuality.

Now I get it, Grace thought dreamily. This is what the lights and music are for.

But that was the last conscious thought she had. After that, she was swept away on a tide of sensation, passion, and love.

“I love you,” she gasped as she came. “I love you!”

“I love you,” Rafa growled. “My mate!”

A moment later, they were lying together on the thoroughly broken-in sofa. The music was still playing.

“That was wonderful,” Grace said with a sigh of contentment. “I’ve completely changed my opinion about romantic music and soft lighting. It’s great. At least, it’s great when it’s with you.” Then, unable to resist teasing him, she added, “Though it would have been even better with rose petals.”

“Dammit! I should have stopped and gotten some more on the way here,” Rafa burst out. Then she saw him register that she’d been kidding. “You laugh, but some day I will cover the bed with rose petals, and then you’ll know what you’ve been missing.”

“Some day,” Grace said. But she couldn’t imagine anything better than what she already had.


Tags: Zoe Chant Protection, Inc Paranormal