Immortal Angel (An Argeneau Novel) by Lynsay Sands

Author:Lynsay Sands [Sands, Lynsay]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Avon
Published: 2020-09-29T00:00:00+00:00

Eight

“Tell me.”

Ildaria glanced up with surprise at those quiet words. They weren’t an order or a plea, just a request. And they made her realize that she’d been silent for a long time, lost in the memories of the last afternoon she’d spent with the woman who had raised her and been more a mother than her own could ever have been. Those ten years with her abuela had been the happiest of her life.

Sighing, Ildaria gave herself a mental shake and straightened in her seat. “Señorita Ana always came down to the kitchens when she woke up, usually shortly before my abuela left, but sometimes earlier. That day she hadn’t come, though, so after Abuela left I went looking for her, expecting my training to continue. Her fiancé, who I now understood was her life mate, was coming downstairs as I came out of the kitchen, so I knew she was probably awake. I headed upstairs, intending to go to her room to see what she wished me to do,” she explained. “But as I approached her door, one of the maids said Señorita Ana was in the salon, expecting company, and wished for me to join her there now that my abuela had left. So I headed back to the stairs.

“I heard one of the servants opening the front door and greeting someone as I approached the landing. I arrived at the top of the stairs just in time to see a man enter. I recognized him at once. It was Juan. And recognizing him brought everything back to me. It was like being punched in the stomach. I think I actually moaned and half bent under the impact. Fortunately, he didn’t notice me or my reaction and walked into the salon, saying, “Saludos hija.” Meeting G.G.’s gaze she translated, “Greetings, daughter.”

“Bloody hell,” G.G. breathed.

“Si. The man who attacked me was Juan Villaverde, Señorita Ana’s father as well as the head of the South American Council. And I had bit off his cock.”

G.G. closed his eyes briefly.

Leaving him to digest that, Ildaria stood and moved into the kitchen. All this talk was drying out her mouth and making her thirsty. The hot chocolate hadn’t really helped. Water would, she thought, and found a glass, then grabbed a second one as well and moved to use the ice cube maker on the refrigerator door. She smiled faintly as she did. Ildaria loved this refrigerator. She loved not having to mess with ice cube trays as she’d had to do at Jess’s place. Here, she simply pressed the glass against the pedal and ice dropped into it with a rattle. Of course, Marguerite’s refrigerator had had an icemaker too, but this one was hers. Well, it was hers as long as she lived here . . . which might not be long if G.G. completely rejected her and sent her on her way.

Mouth tightening, Ildaria moved to the sink to run water into each glass of ice and then carried one over to set down in front of G.

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