pulling a pillow onto her lap and hugging it to her.
“No, now we’re on to the people.” Luke stretched his legs out toward the fire and thought about how to proceed. Here he was on his couch, in front of a fire, with a beautiful woman, and he was going to give her a history lesson instead of make love to her for six or seven hours.
Something about that was very wrong.
“Luke?”
He sighed. “Yeah, yeah. The people and creatures who live in and on the edges of Bordertown are generally those with a reason to avoid the mainstream—in any of their worlds. Here, disinherited Fae royalty mingle with mercenaries who were banished from the demonic realm and humans who either don’t know any better or, as you said, have no place else to go.”
“Which are you?” She aimed a long, measured stare at him, and it tickled the hell out of him that she didn’t seem to share the fear of him that so many in town harbored.
He grinned. “I’m always the one who doesn’t know better. Also, I needed to get out of Europe.”
“Most people say they needed to get out of town. You say you needed to get out of
Europe
. It’s an interesting difference,” she said dryly.
“I have a greater propensity to piss people off than most,” he admitted.
Kit finished her eggs and lightly jumped up on the couch next to Rio. She curled her tail around herself and stared intently at Luke, as if she were listening to the conversation, too.
“That’s B Town. Now, the League,” he continued. “Which reminds me.”
He took his cell phone out of his pocket and dialed a number he’d added only the night before. “Call me. Now.
“The League of the Black Swan contacted me last night. I haven’t heard from them in a very long time. Since 1745, to be precise.”
Rio whistled, long and low. “1745? Exactly how old are you?”
He sighed. Here it went. The kiss of death. Sometimes honesty sucked, but for some weird reason he couldn’t even figure out himself, he knew she deserved it from him.
“I was born in the year 1500. You may have heard of my mother. I’m the bastard son of Lucrezia Borgia.”
Luke hunched down farther in the couch and waited for the horrified outburst. He’d never have a chance with her now that she knew about his evil bloodline and how freaking old he was.
But Rio surprised him again.
She started laughing.
CHAPTER 8
Rio tried to stop laughing. It was probably a really bad idea to laugh at a wizard in his own home, but she couldn’t help it.
“So you’re more than five hundred years old. That’s what you’re claiming?”
He wouldn’t look at her but folded his arms across his chest and stared into the fire. She took a moment to admire the view. He was absolutely gorgeous. His face was all hard lines and angles, with a hint of sensuality in the curve of his lips. The muscles in his long legs were clearly defined under the blue jeans he wore, and she suddenly had a perfectly unreasonable desire to climb into his lap and kiss the hollow in the tanned perfection of his throat. Or, conversely, curl up next to him, knowing she’d always be safe near him, and take a nap.
Naturally, this made her want to run the other way. But she needed to know what he was getting at with this talk of origins and the League of the Black Swan, so she forced herself to stay put and keep her budding libido in firm check.
“Okay, old man,” she joked. “Let’s say you are who you say you are, and you are as old as you say you are. It’s no weirder than a giant duck, that’s for sure. So let’s skip over all of that for now, and move on to what you wanted to tell me about this mysterious League.”
He turned his head and caught her in the full weight of that ocean-blue gaze, nearly making her gasp. Darn it, but he was beautiful. Dark-angel beautiful. Pardon-me-while-I-tear-off-my-clothes beautiful. She had an insane, nearly uncontrollable urge to run her fingers through all that wavy black hair and almost
“No, now we’re on to the people.” Luke stretched his legs out toward the fire and thought about how to proceed. Here he was on his couch, in front of a fire, with a beautiful woman, and he was going to give her a history lesson instead of make love to her for six or seven hours.
Something about that was very wrong.
“Luke?”
He sighed. “Yeah, yeah. The people and creatures who live in and on the edges of Bordertown are generally those with a reason to avoid the mainstream—in any of their worlds. Here, disinherited Fae royalty mingle with mercenaries who were banished from the demonic realm and humans who either don’t know any better or, as you said, have no place else to go.”
“Which are you?” She aimed a long, measured stare at him, and it tickled the hell out of him that she didn’t seem to share the fear of him that so many in town harbored.
He grinned. “I’m always the one who doesn’t know better. Also, I needed to get out of Europe.”
“Most people say they needed to get out of town. You say you needed to get out of
Europe
. It’s an interesting difference,” she said dryly.
“I have a greater propensity to piss people off than most,” he admitted.
Kit finished her eggs and lightly jumped up on the couch next to Rio. She curled her tail around herself and stared intently at Luke, as if she were listening to the conversation, too.
“That’s B Town. Now, the League,” he continued. “Which reminds me.”
He took his cell phone out of his pocket and dialed a number he’d added only the night before. “Call me. Now.
“The League of the Black Swan contacted me last night. I haven’t heard from them in a very long time. Since 1745, to be precise.”
Rio whistled, long and low. “1745? Exactly how old are you?”
He sighed. Here it went. The kiss of death. Sometimes honesty sucked, but for some weird reason he couldn’t even figure out himself, he knew she deserved it from him.
“I was born in the year 1500. You may have heard of my mother. I’m the bastard son of Lucrezia Borgia.”
Luke hunched down farther in the couch and waited for the horrified outburst. He’d never have a chance with her now that she knew about his evil bloodline and how freaking old he was.
But Rio surprised him again.
She started laughing.
CHAPTER 8
Rio tried to stop laughing. It was probably a really bad idea to laugh at a wizard in his own home, but she couldn’t help it.
“So you’re more than five hundred years old. That’s what you’re claiming?”
He wouldn’t look at her but folded his arms across his chest and stared into the fire. She took a moment to admire the view. He was absolutely gorgeous. His face was all hard lines and angles, with a hint of sensuality in the curve of his lips. The muscles in his long legs were clearly defined under the blue jeans he wore, and she suddenly had a perfectly unreasonable desire to climb into his lap and kiss the hollow in the tanned perfection of his throat. Or, conversely, curl up next to him, knowing she’d always be safe near him, and take a nap.
Naturally, this made her want to run the other way. But she needed to know what he was getting at with this talk of origins and the League of the Black Swan, so she forced herself to stay put and keep her budding libido in firm check.
“Okay, old man,” she joked. “Let’s say you are who you say you are, and you are as old as you say you are. It’s no weirder than a giant duck, that’s for sure. So let’s skip over all of that for now, and move on to what you wanted to tell me about this mysterious League.”
He turned his head and caught her in the full weight of that ocean-blue gaze, nearly making her gasp. Darn it, but he was beautiful. Dark-angel beautiful. Pardon-me-while-I-tear-off-my-clothes beautiful. She had an insane, nearly uncontrollable urge to run her fingers through all that wavy black hair and almost
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