“No kidding? We may have to buy some of those from you.”
“You know I’d give them to you for free.”
“But we’ll pay the same price as anyone else,” Dion returned.
Cleia sighed. “Pigheaded, that’s you.” But her eyes laughed at him as she reached for Brisa and set her on her hip.
“Come here, you.” Dion pulled the two of them down on his lap and gave her a hard kiss, while Brisa flung pudgy arms around both their necks.
Cleia nuzzled Dion’s cheek contentedly. She wore a yellow top and a short pleated pink skirt the same colors as Brisa’s stripes. The two of them could have posed for a mother-daughter photo in a fancy human catalog. Once, Rosana might’ve rolled her eyes at their matching outfits. But Cleia had waited a long time to have Brisa, and the look she turned on her daughter was so loving that instead, Rosana’s heart constricted.
She dimly recalled her Irish mom looking at her like that. Before that summer when her parents had left—and never returned.
They’re alive. That’s something.
For a long time, they hadn’t known if Ula and Nisio were alive or dead, although they’d suspected King Sindre of the ice fae was behind their disappearance. Then their brother Nic had confirmed it, but it was Adric’s sister Marjani who, on a mission to Iceland, had seen them at the ice fae court. Ula and Nisio were under a geas that bound them to Sindre himself.
But Rosana still couldn’t see them, because apparently each time Dion or any of the do Rio brothers had come to court asking about Ula and Nisio, the king had punished their parents.
Rosana’s throat worked.
She was lucky and she knew it. She’d had a brother who’d stepped in as a father, Isa to mother her, Tiago as a playmate. And then later, there’d been Cleia and now Alesia and little Brisa.
Ula and Nisio had never even seen their granddaughter.
But that didn’t mean Rosana didn’t feel an emptiness, a ragged hole in her soul that no one else could fill.
She rose to her feet. “I’d better get going.”
Cleia smiled up at Rosana. “Have a good time, darling.”
Their eyes met, and Rosana knew that the sun fae had guessed exactly where Rosana was going and with whom. But she also knew Cleia wouldn’t tell Dion unless absolutely necessary.
“Thanks, I will.” She blew a kiss at her niece, who puckered her small mouth back, and then strolled out of the dining hall.
Not hurrying, because that would make her brothers suspicious.
She waited until she was out of sight to speed up.
Back in her room, Rosana threw off her clothes. Fortunately, Isa had already left for the creche. Although officially retired, the former nurse still helped with the pups most mornings. With her round, comfortable body and graying hair, Isa might look like everyone’s idea of a grandma, but she was nobody’s fool.
Rosana shimmied into an ivory chemise and matching boy shorts, a birthday gift from Cleia. Soft and silky, the fae-made fabric magically molded itself to her body. Next were a black Henley, skinny jeans and the red kitten-heel boots, another gift from Cleia. She donned the matching leather jacket and headed to the clan garage.
The good news? There was a car available. The purple sportbike was too noticeable, and besides, she didn’t want to leave it overnight at a busy rest area.
The bad news? The car was in for an oil change and wouldn’t be ready for an hour.
By the time Rosana drove out of the garage, it was nearly noon, and she had no way to contact Adric, because she didn’t have a cell phone. No one in the clan did. Something about a water fada’s physiology shorted out small electronics.
He’ll wait, she told herself as she raced the twenty minutes south to the rest area.
But she didn’t relax until she saw him standing next to a sporty blue Mazda in a T-shirt, black jeans and combat boots, scanning the incoming cars. Their gazes met. His shoulders eased, and he gave her his trademark cocky smile.
But she’d seen that tense expression. He’d been worried she wouldn’t show. She smiled to herself and pulled into a nearby parking space. Adric was right there, opening the door for her.
“Thanks for waiting,” she said. “I’m sorry, I—”
“You’re here.” He stopped her apology with a kiss. “That’s all that matters. This all you brought?”