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Gideon trailed at her heels, his senses on high alert. He paused outside the front door, repelled by the power of the threshold.
Kay glanced over her shoulder when he didn’t follow her inside.
Gideon arched one brow. “Vampire, remember?”
“You really can’t come in? I always thought that was just some sort of myth.”
“I wish it was.”
“What happens when you try?”
“It’s like butting my head against a brick wall.”
“What happens if someone invites you in and then changes their mind?”
“They can revoke the invitation.”
She considered that a moment, then smiled and said, “Gideon Marquet, come in, and welcome.”
With a wry grin, he followed her into the house, across a tiled entryway, through a living room decorated in earth tones, and down a wide hallway lined on both sides with family portraits. They passed several closed doors before coming to a den paneled in rich, dark mahogany.
Gideon dropped her suitcase beside the door, then stood there, his arms crossed over his chest as he perused the room.
An antique rolltop desk stood against one wall; a floor-to-ceiling bookcase took up most of another. Four comfortable-looking chairs and a pair of love seats, all covered in a deep red fabric, were clustered together in one corner.
Kay’s father sat on one of the love seats, his back erect, his expression shuttered. A pretty woman with light brown hair and vivid blue eyes sat beside him, her hands tightly folded in her lap. Kay’s mother, Gideon supposed. A younger woman with the same stocky build and coloring as Kay’s father occupied the second love seat; a dark-haired man sat beside her. A tall man with short white-blond hair and pale, close-set brown eyes slouched in one of the chairs, his long legs stretched negligently in front of him.
As soon as Kay entered the room, the brown-haired woman leaped to her feet and threw her arms around Kay. “Welcome home, Kiya.”
“Hello, Mother.”
“I’ve missed you.” Kay’s mother stood back, her gaze moving over her daughter in a long, assessing glance. “You look well.”
“More than well,” the young blond male said, rising. “You’re even prettier than when you left us.”
“Hello, Victor,” Kay said, her voice cool.
He stepped toward her, smiling.
When he bent to kiss her, she turned her head to the side so that his lips grazed her cheek.
“Who is this with you?” the stocky woman asked.
“His name is Gideon Marquet, but I’m sure my father has already told you that. What you may not know is that Gideon saved my life, and I saved his. Gideon, this is my aunt Greta, and my uncle Brett. My mother, Dorothy. And Victor Rinaldi.”
“Her betrothed.” The hostility in Victor’s eyes held a silent warning for Gideon to keep his distance.
Dorothy and Victor returned to their seats.
Kay sat on the chair farthest from Victor’s.
After a moment, Gideon took the chair beside her, putting himself between Kay and Rinaldi. He grinned inwardly when Rinaldi scowled at him.
“How long do you plan to stay with us, Mr. Marquet?” Kay’s mother asked politely.
“I’m not sure.”
“My daughter said you saved her life, and she saved yours,” Alissano remarked. “I should like to hear that story in more detail, Kiya, if you don’t mind.”
It wasn’t really a request. She took a deep breath and then, never taking her gaze from Gideon, she related the story of how she and Wanda had gone clubbing, how she had been drugged and how, when she came to, she was in Verah’s basement. She told her father everything that had happened from that night on, leaving out only the intimate details of the time she had spent with Gideon, the times he had tasted her blood, and she had tasted his.
The room was silent when she finished.
After several moments, the Alpha rose. “You have my thanks, Marquet, for saving my daughter’s life and for bringing her safely home, where she belongs. As leader of the Shadow Pack, I grant you leave to stay with us for as long as you wish, with the understanding that you will not try to feed on any of my people. And that, if you hunt in the town, you leave no visible evidence of it.”
Gideon inclined his head to show he understood what the Alpha was saying. Or not saying. It was okay to hunt, it was okay to kill, as long as he didn’t leave any bodies drained of blood in the gutter.
“Kiya will show you to your room. You have my word that no one here will intrude on you while you are at rest.”
“Thank you.” Gideon was sure the Alpha meant well, but he had no intention of spending the day inside the compound. He hadn’t survived this long by taking his rest among strangers, and he sure as hell didn’t intend to start in a den of werewolves.
The Alpha’s gaze rested on each one present. “Please let everyone know we have a guest and that he is here with my consent.”
Greta, Brett, and Dorothy each bid Gideon good night and left the room. Victor Rinaldi nodded curtly in Gideon’s direction, his expression virulent, before following Dorothy out the door.
When the others were gone, Kay’s father embraced her. “Rest well, daughter.”
“Thank you, Father. Good night.”
With a last cautionary glance at Gideon, Alissano quit the room.
Gideon stared after Kay’s father. Though no words had been said, the Alpha’s message had been clear—leave my daughter alone. Which was pretty much the same message that pompous ass, Rinaldi, had sent him.
Gideon shoved his hands in his pockets. Too bad, fellas, he thought as he followed Kay up the winding staircase, because he had no intention of leaving Kay alone, now or ever.
Kay didn’t say anything as she climbed the stairs to the third floor. While she wouldn’t call her father’s invitation either warm or cordial, at least Gideon had been invited to stay as long as he liked. How long would that be? A day? A week?
She stopped in front of the last door on the left at the end of the corridor. “Here we are.”
He gestured at the closed doors up and down the length of the hall. “Are these all bedrooms?”
“Originally, yes, but now my father uses one at the other end of the hall for his workout room. The one across from that is my mother’s sewing room. The one next to yours is filled with old furniture and other odds and ends, and the one across the way is another guest room.”
“Where do you sleep?”
“Why? Are you going to come visit me in the middle of the night?”
