She opened the door before he did and forced a bright smile. He helped her down, then she grasped his hand and dashed through the rain. Under the shelter of the portico, she stopped, and he stunned her into silence by pulling off her beanie. Her long hair cascaded past her waist. She raked back the heavy strands and glanced at him curiously.
He wrapped a wavy lock of her hair around his finger. “So why the subterfuge?”
She grimaced, aware he was asking about their pretend dating. “Mother’s in her match-making mode.”
He didn’t say anything for a second. Then he nodded, let go of her hair, and pocketed her beanie. “Don’t wear these again, I don’t like your hair hidden.”
Pleasure lit within her. Even if her mother did throw a tantrum, she would never regret this time with him. Riley made everything seem better, brighter.
Her gaze slid over him. Drops of rain sparkled on his bronze hair. His earrings winked between the shaggy strands. He wore jeans, teamed with a finely knit dark blue crewneck sweater beneath his leather trench coat. His sedate state of dress did little to tone down the devilish glint in his green eyes or the badboy persona.
Being who he was, what he was, it would be a damn miracle indeed.
“So, are we going in, or do we stay out here and stare at each other? Though that has possibilities.”
She laughed. “In—”
The giant maple front door with its exquisite carving of an abstract design opened.
“Saia Rae.”
At the sound of that cool, clipped voice, Saia tensed, a little surprised her mother had opened the front door instead of a maid. Riley’s hand lowered to her waist, steady and supportive.
As usual, her mother was dressed far too formally. Her sleek gray pants teamed with a pink Chanel sweater were more suited for a political tea than an afternoon at home. Straight black hair skimmed her shoulders with no hint of gray—it would never have a chance to flourish there.
“Hello, Mother.”
Not a flicker of emotion showed on her mother’s angular features or in her dark eyes. “You’re late.”
Of course, she was. Saia had no plans to spend any more time than she had to at home. “Mother, this is Riley. Riley, my mother, Jemima Sen-Grayson.”
“Mrs. Sen-Grayson,” he said politely.
Her mother’s cool gaze skimmed over him.
“Yes…hello. In the sitting room, Saia Rae.” Then she glided off, her gray stilettos clicking softly on the marble floor.
Saia’s lips tightened at the snub. She wanted to apologize for her mother’s rudeness, but if she started now, she’d spend the entire weekend apologizing. Once her mother made up her mind, there was no changing it.
Taking a deep breath, she stepped into the foyer and shook her head at a new maid, who’d hurried to take her coat.
“I got it.”
The place was humming with activity and already decked out for the party. Christmas garlands snaked around the two soaring pillars in the huge foyer. Pedestals laden with colossal displays of flowers in crystal vases stood guard on either side of the central sprawling staircase. Wreaths adorned the balustrades. Christmas was still a full four weeks away.
Saia hung her coat in the closet off the foyer then turned and nearly collided into Riley, who was shrugging off his coat.
She smoothed her long, loose, emerald sweater, almost the exact color of his eyes. When he looked at her, she asked, “What? No comment?”
“Am I supposed to?”
“And that attitude won’t work.” Rolling her eyes, she took his coat and hung it alongside hers. “You need to work harder, pretend I’m the center of your world.”
Shouldn’t be too hard.
Saia whipped around and met his blank stare. “Did you say something?”
His brows climbed up. Heck, now she was imagining things she wanted to hear. Sheesh.
“Come on.” She headed for the living room. He stopped her, laced his fingers with hers. At her wide-eyed stare, he cocked an eyebrow in that utterly sexy way. “Thought you said this had to look real?”
She nodded because the words were trapped in her throat. God, if he carried on in this manner, it would be very hard to let go once tomorrow came.
Riley followed Saia into the elegant room decorated rather early for Christmas. A lavishly decked out fir tree primed to perfection in silver and red took up space adjacent to the fireplace. Flames crackled and leaped from the hearth, adding warmth to the room. A huge abstract painting with splashes of colors bleeding into each other hung on one caramel-colored wall near the doors.
Saia’s grip tightened on his hand.
The reason for all her bristling tension now sat in a straight-back chair near the hearth, like the queen of the manor.
Jemima Sen-Grayson, he decided, would give the ancient demons a lesson in snobbery.
His attention shifted to a tall man with white-blond hair standing near the fireplace. Riley met his chilly blue eyes and stopped dead. Shit! How the hell had this crucial fact slipped his mind? He knew this male, had met him once years ago when he had thanked Riley for saving Liz—his sister—from blood-demons.
Edward Grayson knew the truth. Knew what he was. And Riley had forgotten all this because of a pair of brown eyes and a dimpled smile that had stepped into his life and short-circuited his brain cells.
“Daddy.” Saia rushed across the room, the clip of her boots subdued by the rugs. She hugged her father. “I missed you.”
A smile softened the male’s austere features. “Is that why you came to visit so often?”
She laughed. “I’ve only been gone a few weeks.”
He kissed her forehead, stepped back, and examined her. “You look well.”
A faint blush highlighted her cheeks. “I am.”
Then those sharp blue eyes lifted above Saia’s head to study him. “Are you going to introduce me to your friend?”
Saia turned and held out her hand. Her eyes sparkled, and her dimple drew him like bait.
Riley grasped her far too chilly fingers. Instinctively, his thumb rubbed hers. He didn’t let go of her when she made the introduction. Besides, her father hadn’t kicked him out. Yet.
“Riley, my father, Edward Grayson.”
“Sir.” Riley shook the hand her father extended. Those cool blue eyes gave little away. He’d never pass the test as boyfriend material, so Riley didn’t bother thinking about it. But he had a feeling all Saia had to do was smile and she’d get anything from this parent.
“Riley,” Edward said, and the moment passed.
Saia rubbed her cheek against his arm. He glanced down at her, and her relief enfolded him like a hug. Apparently, he was no better than her sire. Her smile reeled him in, and his own lifted in response.
At the sound of male voices, Riley turned, and the twins strolled inside.
“Here come the instigators of all my troubles,” she grumbled then stiffened when the human from the other night followed her brothers.
“Hey, sis,” the twins said in unison.
“Still sporting the ‘fro, huh?” Rohan reached out to ruffle her hair. Expertly, she dodged him. Zayn completed the torture with a smirk.
“Really?” Scowling, she smoothed her wavy hair then turned to him, her exasperation dissipating. “Riley, you’ve met my brothers.”
He nodded a greeting.
“Hey,” they both said, giving him the once over, their expression considering now.
The calm before the shitstorm? What did it matter? Saia knew what he was, and that was all that mattered to him.
“Saia?” Jemima glided over. She slipped her arm through the male’s at Saia’s brother’s side, completely ignoring Riley. “You remember Piers?”
“Yes,” Saia said, her smile polite. “Hello, Piers.”
It surprised Riley that Jemima hadn’t read out all the guy’s credentials, just to rub Riley’s face in it. A barman and a New Orleans aristocrat vying for her daughter, of course, in her book
, she already knew which one would win.
Pleasure lit Piers’s angular features. His pale blue eyes lingered on Saia’s face. “It’s been a while, Saia.”
“It certainly has,” she muttered.
Piers grasped her hand, tugged her forward, and kissed her cheek. Jemima’s mouth curved in satisfaction. She walked away. Mission accomplished, apparently.
Riley battled to clamp down on the possessiveness waging war inside him. He waited a second…two. Fuck this.
He pulled Saia back, forcing Piers to release her. When she rubbed her cheek against his arm as if to rid herself of the male’s touch, his irritation eased.
“Good to know my sweater serves a purpose,” he murmured against her hair.
A smile ghosted her lips. She probably thought he was still acting.
“My mother is so lacking with introductions today. Riley, this is Piers Haimon, an old family friend.”
The male’s gaze flickered to Riley like he hadn’t seen him before. Then he held out his hand. Riley had to rein in the urge to pin the human to the ceiling and give him the lofty position he obviously thought he deserved.
Piers dropped his hand, smiling as if he’d won that round, and sauntered away.
Forcing himself to ignore the asshole, Riley took the seat beside Saia on the elegant cream-colored couch.
“What is it you do, Mr. Riley?” Jemima asked as Piers sat in the armchair near her. “I seem to have missed your last name.”
And so the interrogation begins.
Riley met her cold gaze and tried to read her thoughts, but came up blank. That surprised him, considering he could read anyone’s if he chose to.
Saia threaded her fingers through his in support.
“Black…Riley Black.” He gave her the name he adopted for business purposes. “I work in a bar, ma’am.”
The twins, who slouched on the opposite couch, cocked their heads like jackrabbits, their eyes gleaming with interest.
“Satire’s?” Rohan asked.
“Yes.” Riley thought it amusing to name the bar after the mockery of his life.
“So you work as what?” Piers drawled. “A bouncer? Bartender…busboy?”
Saia glowered at him. “Really, Piers. Riley own—”
“Let it go.” He squeezed her hand gently, stopping her. “It matters little.”
The sound of approaching footsteps disrupted the tense air.
Saia turned and jumped up, a smile bursting free. “Noah!” She dashed over to the tall male, who bore a slight resemblance to the twins and hugged him. “You came.”
“Said I would.” Her brother eased back and studied Saia with eyes that missed little. The hard features softened. A faint smile touched his mouth. “You look…happier.”
She cut Riley a quick look, an adorable blush staining her cheeks before she turned back to Noah. “I want you to meet someone.”
Riley rose to his feet. Here goes. Intro to the hunter brother.
“Riley, my brother, Noah. Noah, this is Riley.”
The warmth Noah had displayed toward Saia moments ago vanished. Of course, the hunter would sense him, like the other males in her family already had. Noah’s cold blue stare appeared to see right through Riley. Had he truly been Saia’s boyfriend, it wouldn’t end well for him. This human with his strong mental shields would see that they didn’t stay a couple for long.
But only time would tell if he was a prejudiced one as well.
Noah nodded. Then he strolled over to his folks and leaned down to kiss his mother’s cheek, resting his hands on her shoulders. Scars marred them, like he’d been nailed to something. Given what he did, Riley wasn’t surprised.
Caligos just took over a body, but blood-demons were a vicious lot when threatened with death.
Right now, that wasn’t his concern. Hell, all he had to do was hold his peace for another twenty-four hours and then he’d be gone.
He glanced at Saia. A smile curved her lips, and that trouble-making dimple took life. It was going to be a long twenty-four hours… and damn hard to leave.
Saia didn’t trust the quiet from her mother as she fended off the million questions the twins plied her with—like she would really tell them how she’d met Riley. Thankfully, Noah kept Piers busy and away from her.
“Saia.” Jemima rose from her chair. “Would you help me with tea?” She sailed toward the kitchen, leaving behind a cloud of expensive rose and incense perfume.
Help her? More like subject herself to grill-the-wayward-disobedient-daughter time.
Saia took a deep breath and looked across the room to where Riley stood near the fireplace, talking to her father.
Meeting her gaze, he smiled. Just that, and the dread rolling through her eased.
She turned to leave, only to spin back, she had no idea what he preferred, tea or—
“Coffee,” he mouthed. Right. She shot him a look that said: See? We should have covered the basics.
Yes, perhaps. His voice drifted into her mind. But much more fun this way, don’t you agree?
Her mouth dropped open then snapped shut at his telepathy. The fiend. Saia didn’t know whether to laugh or get mad. Riley, it seemed, liked to unsettle her. She hadn’t imagined those earlier words.
Nor did he mean them, she reminded herself. Despite their unconventional meeting and his sensual attacks on her, Riley was about as forthcoming as a brick with personal info.
“Riley?” Zayn called out. “You in for a game of pool?”
“Sure,” he said, still watching her. Something warm and wicked flared in his gaze, holding her spellbound. Her heart sped up with a stupid little flutter.
It’s not real, not real, she repeated. It’s all a show so Mother will back off.
To keep her sanity, Saia turned to Zayn and speared him a warning look. “Don’t even think about it.”
“What? It’s just a friendly game,” he protested, harmless as a hyena circling prey. “Don’t you want us to get to know Riley?”
Saia snorted, not fooled for a second by his innocent look. The twins’ competitive spirit when it came to pool was known throughout town. Doubtless, they wanted to add another name to their win list.
Zayn rubbed his hands in glee. “Okay, then. Let’s get this game on the road.”
Saia watched them leave. Riley touched her back. “I’ll see you later.”
“Okay.” Heck, she wished she could tag along, too. She blew out a rough breath. Shoulders squared, she made her way to the kitchen and into battle.
The aromatic smells of baked cookies drew her attention to the island counter in the massive kitchen with its sea of maple-wood cupboards, black granite counters, and stainless steel appliances.
Mary, their old cook, had laid out a platter of chocolate-chip cookies on the counter next to a scrumptious red velvet cake. Her tight, salt-and-pepper curls were pulled back into several cornrows. She glanced up and her brown eyes, a shade lighter than her skin, brightened in her round face. “Saia, sugar, you’re back.”
Along with the soft, lyrical Cajun cadence of her voice, her warmth drew Saia like a moth to a flame. She hugged the older woman. “Only for the weekend, Mary,” she said, smiling. Mary rubbed her back and went back to her tea preparation.
Saia turned to her mother, wanting to get this over with. “What is it now, Mother?”
Jemima’s elegant eyebrow rose at her terseness. Not a line showed on her smooth brown skin, even in the unforgiving bright florescent lights. Her assessing gaze skimmed over Saia. “You’re wearing bulky clothes again. Either cut down on your dessert or book a week at a spa.”
Saia choked down her irritation. Mary sent her a sympathetic look from behind her mother’s back as she opened the mammoth fridge, used to the lectures her mother dished out.
Deliberately, Saia picked up a chocolate-chip cookie and took a bite, reveling in the chocolaty taste. This form of her mother’s attack strategy was one she understood far too well.
Weaken the prey
and pounce so she’d get what she wanted. Saia refused to let her have the last word, not this time. “I’m sorry I’m such a disappointment, Mother, but I’ll always be a bit curvy. Now, what do you want to talk about?”
“Why do you have to be this difficult?” her mother demanded. “All right. You made your point. Send him off, and I won’t push you into seeing any more suitors.”
“Is parading twenty-nine men past your spinster daughter getting too embarrassing—” Saia broke off and took a deep breath. She didn’t want to be drawn into another useless argument. “Fine, but Riley stays. I like him…”
But it was more than a simple liking, she realized. It was something intrinsic she felt within her bones. From the moment outside Liz’s apartment when he’d grabbed her, even though she hadn’t seen him, his voice, his touch had affected her.
It’s why the thought of him with that woman, Pandora, made her tummy roil.
But the fact that he was here gave her hope.
“No, Saia Rae,” her mother said, as if sensing her thoughts. “I’m saving you the heartache which is sure to follow. Men who look like him will only hurt you. I’m doing this for your own good.”
“My own good? Mother, you fell in love with Daddy. Why won’t you let me do the same? Find someone, fall in love?”
“Because you don’t know your own mind. Just look at whom you brought home.”
“Someone who actually cares about me?” Saia shot back.
“You’ll find out just how shallow men like him are when he realizes he won’t get a dime of your inheritance,” her mother retorted. “He’ll leave you. I refuse to have my daughter’s name dragged through the dirt, associating with a man who works in the worst part of New Orleans.” She pinned Saia with an irate look. “For heaven’s sake, he tends a bar, wears earrings. What kind of image is that for people of our standing? God only knows how many tattoos he must have.”
“I don’t care if he has piercings throughout his body or tatts on his butt”—she ignored her mother’s eye-popping—“or what he does. You’re wrong about him. He’s not after anything, or, God forbid, my inheritance.” Resentment buzzed through her that her mother would think that of him. “And don’t you dare offer him any pay-off. If you do, I’ll…I’ll leave—elope with him. You will never see me again.”
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