“That’s because until a number of weeks ago, he was saborese.”
She muttered something under her breath that sounded like a serious swearword. “I’m sick and tired of you toying with me, Mondragon. I’m leaving.”
“Not until his Grace says you can go,” Raymond informed her.
She pushed her chair back and rose slowly to her feet. God, she was tall! “I. Am. Leaving.”
Mina came to her feet on my lap. She wasn’t growling, but I could tell from the way her body vibrated, it was just a matter of time.
“That wouldn’t be wise.” Adam ran an idle finger under Mina’s chin.
“Why wouldn’t it?” she snarled.
“What time is it here?”
She glanced at her watch, impatience in every line of her body. “It’s 9:37. So what?”
“And what time does that make it in America?”
“Two…” She closed her fingers around the edge of the table, and there was a crack as she broke it off. “Son of a bitch.”
“Yes. You’d be going home to broad daylight.”
“Goddamn Europe.”