Page 9 of Valkyrie Confused

Her shy expression morphs into a scowl in the blink of an eye. “You’re thinking, if I’m writing it, I must be into it, right? Sleeping around with who-knows-how-many men at a time?”

I shake my head—because I don’t do outright lying—but she goes on.

“My books pay for my very comfortable life, so joke’s on you, mister. I make money writing about mythological creatures and humans getting it on, and it’s good money, and I’m not going to apologize for it.” It all comes out in a single breath. “And when I’m done with this book, and Pan and the Berserker and Malia are happy together, I may hit seven digits.” There’s a challenge in her eyes.

How many people have told her that her dream is impossible?

“And I can andwillsleep with whomever I want. I don’t need your permission. I don’t need anyone’s permission.”Crossing her arms over her chest, she slumps back in her seat. Her voice has been rising with every sentence, but the rant seems to have knocked the wind out of her, and she snaps her mouth shut, shoulders sagging.

For the second time in a few minutes, she’s gone from chatty to defensive, and both cases were over her work.

“I already told you, I’m all for romance novels. And far be it from me to inhibit people’s sex lives.” I’m all about the opposite, really. “Or judge them, for that matter.”

“Sorry. That wasn’t meant for you.” She scowls. “Notallmeant for you.”

“Hey, all I feel about what you do is admiration. You create whole worlds with your imagination. And love and sex are integral parts of—well—everything. So you keep writing that book and make Malia a happy camper, and I’ll make sure your morning coffee is on time and the hotel runs like clockwork.”

With a curt nod, Scarlett pushes her chair back and stands. “Thank you. For the meal and the conversation.” She scrunches her nose. “And the support, if you mean it.”

This seems like a good point to end the night. I’m not going to seduce someone this tightly wound over our first sort-of-dinner together, and if we keep talking and she’s in this mood, I’ll probably put my foot in my mouth and need to start from scratch.

Besides, when she goes back upstairs, I can do some research on who and what she may be.

“I do.” I get up too and open the door for her. “I’ve been meaning to ask, though. How come you chose this place—this hotel—for the next step in your life?”

She pulls her hair out of her bun, twists it around her hand, and secures it back in place with her scrunchy. “My friend Nyx suggested I check it out. She’s into luxury hotel chains and resorts and such, and she thought it’d be a good investment.”

I try to keep a pleasant smile on, as I say, “Sounds like a good friend.” But if she were one, she’d have warned me about Scarlett, so now she’ll get an earful. “Goodnight, Scarlett.”

FOUR

PAN

Nyx is an asshole.She may be ancient, but she acts like a teenager when I call her out on her crap, and tonight isn’t an exception.

She picks up her phone before I even hear it ring. Yes, this primordial being has a cell phone. So do I. We keep with the times.

“Hello, darling. I expected you to call sooner,” she says, her voice dripping honey.

“What is she?” I can domenacing, but I don’t try it with her.

“What is who?”

I can practically hear her batting her eyelashes. “The blonde you sent my way,” I say more coolly. The more eager for answers I sound, the longer she’ll take to provide them.

“Oh, you mean my friend Scarlett? She’s a writer. And now a hotel owner, too.”

Her faux cheer grates on my nerves, and I’m not easily annoyed; it goes against mylive and let livephilosophyon life. When people don’t leave me be, though, they get the horns. Like, literally.

I force my jaw to relax and mimic her cheery tone. “And what else?”

Nyx lets out a long sigh. “I’m not sure, okay?” She sounds sincere, if a little petulant. “I met her a few months back. She was at a bar, having drinks with her BFF, and they both emanated this…”

“Power,” I finish for her.

“Exactly. I could see strong threads of fate linked to both of them, but not why. All I know is that they need protection, and Scarlett, in particular, needed to get farfaraway from her life. Since you have a history of running from your troubles, I thought you’d be the best man for the job.”

I’d be flattered if she hadn’t managed to squeeze in an insult. “I didn’trun; I distanced myself.”

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