Midnight Moonrising (Moonrising #2)(46)

Spell? They are witches? No. Magic isn't real. These bitches needed a shrink and straightjackets.

Phoenix nodded, and after realizing his mistake, he spoke aloud. "I'll bring her, but only if you promise we won't have to go through that horrid booby-trap of Magnalayna's again."

Alex jerked away when he felt someone touch his arm. He discovered it to be Magnalayna, but only after he'd bumped into Morgana on his other side. He froze as both women caressed his shoulders and back. "Uh, can we go now?"

Phoenix chuckled. "They won't hurt you—"

"Yes, they will," Jaxon said.

"Only because you wanted them to," Phoenix retorted. "Now, you, Heath and Brad go give your offering for the spell so we can get back before dawn."

Meridia glanced over her shoulder and appeared to be looking right at Phoenix when she spoke. "I thought about charging you double this time, but I'm looking forward to seeing how this is all going to play out between the four of you, so this one is on me."

Alex blinked in confusion. The four of you?

Phoenix frowned. "You're so generous, Meridia."


She smiled, and then shut the door behind her.





Chapter 27



Mena





I opened my eyes to the smell of coffee and ham. My stomach growled as I rolled to my back and stared at the ceiling above Phoenix's bed.

"Sleep well, Lupacchiotto?"

I grimaced as I sat up and looked across the room. Phoenix was leaning back in a chair at the head of the dining table, a lone ankle rested comfortably on his left knee and the daily newspaper open in front of him, stealing from me what was sure to be a beautiful view.

"What does that mean?" I said as I scooted off the mattress and slid my feet into a pair of his house slippers.

As I made my way to the seat beside him, Phoenix folded the paper and laid it on the table. I suddenly felt underdressed in what I was wearing, with him looking as elegant and delicious as he did in a navy button-up and white slacks—not one wrinkle. Had he showered and dressed after he got home or had that been what he'd dressed in before he left last night—the same night we had argued and not settled anything?

"My question or lupacchiotto?"

"The second one. You've called me that a couple of times, but I've never heard it before." He smiled. I melted. It irritated me immensely that I couldn't stay mad at him, no matter what he did to upset me.

"It's Italian, meaning wolf cub."

"Oh," I said as I picked up the steaming cup of coffee. He must have had someone bring it in just before I woke up. "You don't look Italian."

He grinned again. I glanced back to my cup, took a sip, and then I sighed in approval as the delectable taste hit my taste buds. It was the best coffee I had ever had in my life.

"I spent some time in Italy—I love it there—but it wasn't where I was born."

"Where were you born?"

"My mother was the daughter of a poor Viscount of Brittany in the thirteenth century, and she was promised to a wealthy Duke of Spain since her birth."

I hadn't realized I'd placed my elbow on the table and propped my chin in my palm until Phoenix snickered. I was fascinated by the story already and wanted to hear more.

He reached in front of me and took the lid off a plate of eggs, ham and toast. "There is butter and jam, too, if you like. It's been a while since I've eaten breakfast food, so I hope I didn't forget anything. You need to eat. The detective will be here in a little over an hour."

Blinking down at the food, I nearly teared up. Phoenix had prepared everything himself. I really wanted to apologize for last night, but I wanted to hear about him more at the moment, so the apology could wait.

"I'll eat. You talk," I said.

He leaned back in the chair and ran a finger over his bottom lip as he studied me. "What would you like me to talk about, Mena?"

I picked up my fork and shoveled in a bite of eggs before responding. "Mmm… These are really good. What did you season them with?"

He grinned. "I have my secrets."

I didn't even bother rolling my eyes. I knew very well the man had secrets; I happened to be one of them. Or maybe he was one of mine. Whatever. We both had our share of skeletons stashed in the closet.

After cutting a piece off the ham, I took a bite, and said, "I want to hear your story. What happened? How did you get to be so regal and magnificent?"

The corner of his mouth twitched. I knew he loved it when I praised him. It was a total turn-on for him, and I got turned on when he was turned on and… being as we were alone in his chambers and I was in nothing but a long button-up shirt and panties, and also the fact that Alex would be knocking on Phoenix's door in only a little more than an hour, I really needed to get back on the subject, a different subject, a safe subject.

"I want to know about you. So, a Duke was your father. What does that make you?"

He sighed, as if he were sifting through centuries of memories to find the right one to tell me about. "It makes me a bastard." My fork clattered to the plate as I stared at him. "The Duke wasn't my father, Mena. She married him, but hated him and everything to do with the arranged marriage her father had forced her into in exchange for a peace treaty, a bag of coins and more land." He pointed to the plate. "Your food is getting cold."