"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."
* * *
Adam watched Gabrielle through narrowed eyes and, though he appreciated Drustan's formal welcome, was pleased that Dageus recalled him, and delighted that his ka-lyrra was finally beginning to see him for who he was, it was all currently doing little to appease him.
He'd not anticipated his reaction to seeing Gabrielle around the twins.
He didn't like it. Didn't like it one bit. There was too much testosterone in the room. And all of his— no inconsiderable amount— was invisible.
And knowing Drustan and Dageus were married wasn't doing a damn thing to ease his mind. Really, did she have to smile at them like that? Didn't she understand they were men and men were not to be trusted around a woman like Gabrielle, no matter how happily married they allegedly were? And Christ, he couldn't even mark his territory. Touching her in small, intimate ways failed to establish anything, because each time he did it, it only made her invisible to them.
He'd never hated being invisible more. Around normal men back in Cincinnati it had been of no consequence, but the Keltar were not normal men.
He toyed irritably with his empty tumbler of scotch, rolling it back and forth between his palms, eyeing the bottle on the sidebar.
Casting the MacKeltars a black look— which of course they couldn't see, but it made him feel mildly better— he stood, refilled his glass, and began pacing the library. It was a spacious, masculine room with cherry bookcases recessed in paneled walls, comfortable chairs and ottomans, a dusky rose marble fireplace, and tall bay windows. He circled it, absently examining books, listening while Gabby continued filling them in on their— ah, no, her— version of events to date. He'd tried to get her to tell it his way, but she'd seemed perversely delighted by the opportunity to tell the MacKeltars all about how her life had gotten so screwed up since his advent into it.