Oracle's Moon (Elder Races #4)(27)

But the fragrance of the steaming gourmet food hit Grace where it truly hurt. Still shaken from the vision, too tired and hungry herself, Grace took one look at Chloe’s wide, shining eyes—and reached for the nearest serving spoon to place small heaps of the delicacies on Chloe’s plate.

After Chloe had plenty, Grace served herself, took her first bite and was transported with delight.

Her enjoyment was helped immensely when Mundir finished mopping shortly after the food arrived and disappeared with a sneer. She was grateful when the hostile Djinn left. It was a little difficult to try to eat while he cleaned her kitchen floor.

Who was she kidding? She would have wanted to eat that breakfast in the middle of tornado warnings with smoke alarms going off. The fact that she relaxed and stuffed herself in Khalil’s presence kind of proved her own point.

Oh gods, the smoked salmon.

She gave Max his bottle, and he drank contentedly while she savored each bite of the rich, exquisitely prepared food. While she had accessed the Oracle’s Power only a few times since she had inherited it, she found the stories her grandmother and Petra had told her about the aftermath were true. She felt shaky, like she was loosely attached to the physical world. Eating breakfast helped to anchor her more fully in her body. The intensity of the vision faded, and the reality of her own life came to the forefront of her mind where it belonged. She set the whole experience aside, to examine it later. For now she focused on the children and the present.

Khalil lounged in his chair, a massive, regal figure, his presence crackling against her hypersensitive awareness. She watched him out of the corner of her eye. His arms were thick, and his chest was wide with the appearance of muscles. He watched Chloe eat, his radiant eyes lit with an indulgent expression. He chatted with the little girl, asked her questions about her doll and friends, and from time to time he sipped coffee or chose to sample a bite from one of the dishes. Once or twice he glanced at Max with a slight smile.

Did his smile hold a touch of wistfulness? She thought of his brief, tragic statement about his daughter who had sustained some kind of damage and had apparently not recovered from it. For a moment he had shown an immense rage and deep grief before his expression smoothed over.

He clearly liked creating mischief, and he carried more arrogance in his little finger than anybody else she had ever met. But she did not sense any true malevolence in his actions. Despite his acerbic and high-handed manner, all in all he had treated her far better than she had expected.

Then there were the children. They were her anchor, her terrifying responsibility, and now somehow they had become a bridge to this Powerful creature.

Aware of their bargain, she said hesitantly, “Would you like to hold Max?”

Surprised pleasure lit Khalil’s hard face. He said, “If the small gentleman would deem that acceptable.”

“Let’s see, shall we?” she said. “He’s pretty easygoing, and he likes people.”

She handed Max over to Khalil, sticky banana-coated hair, bottle and all. Max grinned, kicked his legs and burbled conversationally. Khalil held the baby straight out in both hands, staring at him. Now that he actually had hold of Max, he seemed frozen and unsure about what to do.

Grace covered her mouth to hide her smile. She suggested, “Set him on your lap.”

Khalil’s gaze shifted to hers. He settled the baby on his lap. Max leaned back against his arm, tilted his bottle up and waved a foot in the air as if drinking his bottle while hanging out with a Djinn was an everyday occurrence. Grace patted the baby’s shoulder. She might be biased, but she thought her nephew was one pretty-cool guy.

“Do you think he likes me?” Khalil asked, his black brows drawn together.

His uncertainty was so unexpectedly endearing, Grace bit her lip. She opened her mouth to reply, but her niece beat her to it.

“Sure,” said Chloe as she chewed on the end of a sausage. “I like you too. But I’d like you better as a horsie.”

Khalil grinned, and Grace murmured warningly, “Chloe.”

“What?” Chloe said, wide-eyed again. “Was that bad?”

Grace noticed that Chloe wasn’t really eating the sausage, just chewing on the end of it. “Are you done eating?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Then stop chewing on that. It’s time for you to have that bath.” She stared at all the food on the table. It could wait for fifteen minutes. She would put it away after she got the kids clean. She turned to Khalil. “Thank you so much for breakfast.”

He looked resigned. “You are welcome.”

She gave him an evil grin as she nudged Chloe. “Come on, honey. Say thank you to Khalil for the pancakes.”

Chloe knew how to turn on the charm. She gave Khalil a high-watt beam worthy of a beauty-pageant queen. “Thank you!”

Khalil held Grace’s gaze as he returned her smile, his own laced with a grudging amusement. Then he turned his attention to Chloe. He said to the little girl, “You are welcome. Did you enjoy them?”

“Yes!”

“I’m glad.”

Grace held out her arms for Max, and Khalil handed the baby over to her. “Well,” she said, somewhat awkwardly. What now? Should she tell him to go, only much more nicely than she had before? “I really appreciate you coming when I called.”

He gave her an exasperated glare. “Shut up.”