Page 73 of De-Witched

“So, you knew Gabe when he was a boy?”

“Sure, me and Gabe go way back.”

“Was he always such a killjoy?” She poked his ribs, squeaked when his hand on her back slid down, tapped her ass. A rush of inappropriate lust had her frowning at him.

His lips barely curved. That only made it worse.

“Not always,” Henry answered. He leaned an elbow on the bar, the picture of a man settling in for a conversation. “When we were young, he had a real nose for a prank. His parents hated that. Their son shouldn’t dishonor the family name, do good and all that. Even if he only went after the bullies.”

“Henry.”

He ignored Gabriel and regaled a fascinated Leah with more stories that Mrs. Q hadn’t known about. She laughed so hard at one point, beer shot out of her nose.

She didn’t want to like Henry, out of loyalty to Tia, but it was hard not to get sucked into the charming warlock’s orbit. Even so, she occasionally caught the edge of something before he smoothed it over with a grin. As much a mask as Gabriel’s, she thought, as they called for a second beer. It seemed nobody survived in Higher society without one. Fake, all of it. Just like...

She swallowed, suddenly edgy. Well, just like the entitled world she’d walked away from. Hadn’t thought twice about leaving it all behind, had never been happier than when she could stop second-guessing everybody’s smile and words.

Gabriel’s society might be magical but it was the same. And this was the world she’d always wanted to join?

As she picked up the beer Bastian brought, she nudged that disquieting thought out of sight to focus on the now. Gabriel didn’t have many friends, or not that she’d picked up on. It was important to her that she made a good impression. She tucked the reason away with the other thought, neatly out of sight.

With a cleansing sip of her beer, she angled toward Gabriel’s friend and changed the subject. “So, Henry...you’re rich, huh?”

Henry’s laugh lured a few female stares from the nearby table. “Reasonably.”

“You’re a good person?”

“Depends who you ask.”

Intriguing, but she didn’t ask questions. Instead, she batted her eyelashes. “Ever thought about investing in an animal shelter?”

When she saw Gabriel smile behind his beer, everything fell into place.

17

Tonight was the night.

Leah pressed a jittery hand to her belly as she stood in front of the mirror in her bedroom, wrapped in her dressing gown. Delilah and Louie lay on her bed, with Rosie creeping closer to the open closet so she could curl up with the shoes. Sylvie had wound herself up on the chaise longue at the end of Leah’s bed, and Ralph was...well, who knew?

She ignored all of them as she stared at herself. Because tonight was the night.

Of the charity gala.

And for her to seduce Gabriel Goodnight.

“Breathe,” she told herself as her lungs squeezed. “Just breathe.”

Pressure mounted her shoulders, squatted there as she rolled them. More so about the gala than the seduction, though both presented their own challenges. But she was as prepared as she could be, more prepared than she’d even expected, thanks to the planner her mom had hired to help stage the event.

If only she could be there to see it.

Leah swallowed the pang of longing. Her mom and George were headed to Spain and sounded so excited about it, she hadn’t had the heart to ask them to come to Chicago for one night, especially since they’d already given a generous donation.

She’d be fine. No, they’d be spectacular. Leah—and Gabriel.

Because after days of back and forth, of questioning what was right, what was wrong, heart or head, she’d made her decision.

She would be brave. Knowing Gabriel would eventually leave her would help keep her walls, shaky as they were, blocking any deeper emotions. Sex with friendship was fine. Sex with feelings was not.

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