“Um, excuse me, but who are you talking to? And you’re not a mess,” Chloe assured her. “Believe me, Gwen and I have been in our share of scrapes and felt bedraggled ourselves, and you’re not bedraggled. Is she, Gwen?”
Gwen smiled. “Hardly. Bedraggled is being in the full throes of nicotine withdrawal, and after a week on a bus with a group of senior citizens, falling into a cave, and landing on a body.”
“And then getting tossed back a few centuries, with no idea of what’s going on,” Chloe agreed. “Naked, too, weren’t you?”
Gwen nodded wryly.
Gabby blinked.
“I gave you my plaid,” Drustan protested indignantly. “ ’twas ne’er my intention to send you back bare as a wee bairn, Gwen.”
Gwen gave her husband a loving glance. “I know,” she said softly.
The one called Dageus tossed his head impatiently. “All of which is neither here nor there. To whom do you speak that we canna see, lass?”
Tossed back a few centuries? Naked? What? Good heavens, were these people like Adam’s half-Fae son, displaced in time? Her own life, her little corner of the Tri-State was looking increasingly normal to her with each passing day.
“Tell them, Gabrielle,” Adam urged impatiently.
Blinking, Gabby nodded. “I have one of the, er . . . fairies here with me—”
“Tuatha Dé,” Adam corrected irritably. “You’re bloody well making me sound like Tinkerbell.”
“One of the Tuatha Dé,” she amended, with a wry smile. “He says I’m making him sound like Tinkerbell, but, believe me, no one could ever confuse Adam Black with Tinker—”
“Adam Black of the Tuatha Dé Danaan?” Dageus exclaimed, those exotic golden eyes widening.
“You know him?” To Adam, she said peevishly, “You didn’t tell me they knew you.”
“I wasn’t certain if Dageus retained any memory of me, ka-lyrra. He was near death at the time, and I didn’t know if Aoibheal would permit him recall,” he said mildly.
“You mean, the Tuatha Dé Danaan that saved my husband’s life?” Chloe exclaimed. “He’s here with you?”
Okay, that threw her completely off balance. Adam had saved Dageus’s life? When? How? Why? What was he doing, going around saving people’s lives? What kind of fairy did that? None of the ones she’d ever heard of. Fairies didn’t go around helping humans.
For heaven’s sake, she thought, staring up at him, mouth ajar, do I even know him at all?
Damn the O’Callaghan Books. Had they gotten anything besides his immense sexuality right?
Adam smiled faintly and, with a gentle finger beneath her chin, nudged her mouth shut. His gaze fixed on her lips for a moment and he lightly traced the pad of his thumb over her lower lip. When he applied a gentle pressure, she was mortified to feel the tip of her tongue slip out to taste him. She hadn’t meant to do it; she hadn’t been able to stop herself.
His face went instantly taut with lust and he made a guttural sound in his throat. Nostrils flaring, he drew several slow breaths, then said tightly, “What, didn’t read about that one in your silly Books, Gabrielle? Doesn’t mesh with your preconceptions? Imagine that.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Would you have believed me?” he countered coolly.
She winced.
“Hence, I didn’t tell you.” He let his hand fall from her face.
“Oh, do you see that?” she heard Gwen exclaim, as if from a distance. “She just disappeared again! This is so fascinating! And now she’s back.”
Gabby was still staring up at him when Chloe took her hand, gushing, “Oh, welcome, welcome, both of you. Are you hungry? Thirsty? What can we get you? And here, let us take your bags. So, er,” she hesitated the briefest of moments, “I know this probably isn’t the time for it, but just how old is Adam Black anyway? You see, I have a few questions about the Iron Age. Actually,” she confided earnestly, “I have quite a few questions about several—”
“Can he eat and drink?” Gwen interrupted, with an utterly fascinated expression. “I mean, is he actually there? And, er . . . exactly where is there? Is he in another dimension or something? Parallel to ours, maybe?”
Dageus and Drustan exchanged wry looks and shook their heads.
Then Drustan stepped forward and slipped an arm around his wife’s shoulders. Silvery gaze resigned, he said, “Why doona we just address whether or not the lass is hungry and let matters of history and physics bide a wee.” To the general vicinity near Gabby, he inclined his head and said with quiet formality, “The Keltar bid you welcome, Tuatha Dé. The Old Ones are e’er welcome in our home.”