Poor Carl was still floundering, no doubt dreading the thought of telling Gemma’s secretary her employer’s schedule might have to be preempted for a business meeting. “I’m sorry, Mr. Ramsay, but could you please explain—”

Terry cut him off with a single raised finger. He turned to his first lieutenant, Roger, and spoke in a lower voice. “Send the boys out tonight. Find out who’s coming, then call Gemma. Take the proper steps.”

“Yes, boss.”

He turned back to the thin man in the respectable suit. “Carl, brief the office about the change of venue. I have a feeling this is about something other than the trade deal she talked about.”

“Sir, this meeting has been planned for months. It’s a routine—”

“Trade would be three. She’s sending five.”

“Yes, Mr. Ramsay.”

“And Roger, have Wilson and Kincaid at dinner.”

He saw Roger crack a smile. “Kincaid?”

“He’ll behave if Gemma’s there.”

Roger murmured, “I suppose we’ll finally see if those etiquette lessons paid off.”

“As long as he eats with a fork, it’ll be an improvement.”

Carl picked up again, rattling off more matters Terry tucked to the back of his brain to think about later. Five vampires from Spain? This week had suddenly become far more interesting.

Terry picked up the foreign scent as soon as he stepped out of the car in Mayfair. It was hardly past two in the morning, but he’d finished his duties early that night and had anticipated a quiet evening at home. Perhaps he’d even convince Gemma to sit still long enough to talk about something more than work. But if he was there…

“Oy.” He slammed the front door closed, cutting off Roger, who had tried to slip into the house behind him. “What are you doing here?” Terry shouted as he walked down the hall. Daniel Rathmore was already sitting in Terry’s favorite chair in the study, sipping a Scotch in a cut crystal glass, the surrounding elegance seemingly at ease with the young vampire’s scruffy appearance.

“This is an excellent whisky.”

“It should be for what I paid for it. Out of my chair. No respect from the in-laws, eh?”

Daniel gave him a sly grin as he hopped up and bowed in mock ceremony. “Daniel Rathmore, son of Carwyn ap Bryn, brother of Gemma Melcombe, asks your favor in visiting the City of London, Mr. Ramsay.”

Terry gave Daniel’s cheek a quick slap and grabbed his glass. “Mr. Rathmore would be far more welcome if he’d wait till I got home to begin pouring my drink. How are you, lad? And where’ve you been? She’s been asking about you.” He took a sip of Scotch and sat in the newly vacated chair. “Almost had your sister worried, Dan. Don’t irritate me like that.”

Daniel had the grace to feign embarrassment. “Mountain climbing. Didn’t think to call. It’s the best season in South America. And there was a woman.”

“Isn’t there always with you?” He took another sip. It really was an excellent bottle. “South America, eh?”

Daniel was about to say something else when they both turned. Gemma’s powerful amnis announced her presence even before her scent did. Then the smell of her blood hit Terry, and he felt the instant tension. His fangs lengthened. His trousers grew tight as his amnis swirled around him, aching to stroke along hers. He felt the blood begin to pump in his veins as she entered the room. It had always been like this for him, from the moment he’d laid eyes on her. He was long past being annoyed by it.

“Daniel!” Gemma was a vision of elegance in a designer suit and perfectly appropriate jewelry. Jewelry she’d picked out herself. Smelling of a very light perfume she’d also picked out. “Where have you been, darling? I was almost ready to send out a search party.” She walked over and gave Terry a perfunctory kiss on the cheek before she headed to her brother.

Gemma was the oldest of her siblings now, and Daniel was the youngest. Carwyn claimed he was finished siring children, but who knew what would happen with a new young wife. Gemma had only one child, a young vampire who lived in Sydney. They rarely spoke, but corresponded regularly. It was Daniel, the youngest of their clan, she doted on.

“I’m fine, Gem.” The two embraced, Gemma caring not a mite for her brother’s scruffy appearance. “And I was in Cochamó. Gus and Isa say hello. Want to know when you two are coming for a visit.”

Gemma gave a mock shudder. “And travel that long on a boat? No thank you. Maybe if Giovanni sent the plane. Far more civilized way to travel.”

Terry felt the fang pierce the inside of his lip as his jaw clenched. Wait for it…

“Was he there?” She asked so nonchalantly. “With… the family? It’s such a lovely time of the year to visit.”

Terry took another sip of whisky and buried the snarl.

Fucking Italian.

“No, I think they’re all in California right now. The valley was nice and deserted. Gus and I were climbing in this new area, Gemma. It was so beautiful.”

They chattered for another twenty minutes about Daniel’s latest adventure. Gemma laughed—really laughed—as her brother regaled her with wild stories and jokes about their kin in the New World. Terry poured drinks for all of them and slipped out for a moment to take a drink from one of the house donors, then he answered a call from Roger, who had already found out who the Spanish delegate would be and what his favorite wine was.