"You're ready," he says, sounding surprised. I've taken my shower and now I'm standing in front of a long mirror in his room, swiping a tinted gloss over my lips.

Our eyes meet in the mirror as he leans against the wall behind me with his arms folded across his chest. The white t-shirt stretches over his broad shoulders and his fully dried hair is sexily tousled. The butterflies in my stomach flutter and my heart flip almost painfully in my chest as they always do every time I look at him.

The fluttering in my stomach actually feels worse now because we're having breakfast with his family this morning. It makes me feel a bit anxious. Well, if I'm being really honest, I'm not just a bit anxious- there's a heavy block of ice in my stomach.

A half-demon meeting a family of royal Nephilims. How crazy is that? I mean, they've met Alistair who is also a half-demon, obviously, but our circumstances are totally different. To be honest, I don't know how this is going to work. But surely Sacha knows his family best, right?

I also don't know how formal his family is at the dinner table so, I'm following his lead. He's in jeans and a t-shirt, so I've put on high-waisted white denim with a pale blue top and white strappy sandals.

"Most women I know take forever to get ready but it only took you fifteen minutes," he muses before he pushes himself off the wall to stroll over to me.

I shrug my shoulders. I don't know about other women but I don't need long to get ready...most days. Like all my siblings, though, I could spend hours in front of the mirror, admiring myself. But today is not the day.

Today I have my hair up in a high classic ballerina bun. A few loose tendrils that are framing my face look soft buttery yellow and silvery white in the morning sunlight that's streaming in through the big windows and the french doors to the balcony.

He stands behind me, placing his hands on my shoulders and I watch him from beneath my lashes. I'm quite tall for a woman but he still towers over me.

"You are so unbelievably beautiful, some days it hurts just to look at you," he murmurs. His piercing hazel gaze is studying me closely in the mirror as if he's cataloging my features. "When we went out, I saw strangers doing a double take when they saw you. Men tripped over their own feet or literally walked into walls, unable to take their eyes off of you. But you're used to that, aren't you, Danica Saint? Even Alistair, my long-time friend couldn't help himself. He had to go and disregard my warning not to go anywhere near you."

I swallow hard. I don't know how to answer that. I'm aware of the effect that I have on men and I normally use that to my advantage.

"When I see his hands and lips on you, I wanted to kill him," he says, his hands are tightening possessively on my shoulders. His eyes flash with a sheen of gold. I know now that his eyes turn golden when he's angry, just like they turn red for a demon or a half-demon like me. "I wanted to break every bone in his body for touching you and grant him a slow painful death." Clearly, he's not over last night. "I couldn't stand it. I hate seeing you with someone else."

"I know the feeling," I tell him. My heavy-lidded eyes are half dazed by his close proximity and his violent possessiveness is turning me on. But my gaze is also half challenging- he can't expect me to agree to be with him exclusively, no matter how long this arrangement between us is going to last if he's not going to do the same. I had never stayed loyal to one lover my whole life but seeing him with someone else hurts. The reality is, I have no desire to be with anyone else now that I've experienced what it's like to be with him. No one else compares. "I hate seeing you with someone else too."

He brushes his mouth against the back of my neck and I close my eyes as the tingle of electricity skitters down my spine. "You won't ever see me with someone else. I only want you," he says against my skin. His husky voice is like a silky caress.

"Really?"

"Hmmm..." His warm lips continue their path down the slope of my shoulder.

"So..." I struggle to think and keep my eyes open. "We're exclusive?"

"Yes, Danica," he mutters against my skin. "I've said that before and I'm making it very clear now. No one else. Just you. Just me."

Really? This feels surreal. My brain is trying to process what he's saying but his lips are wrecking my ability to think. "Breakfast..." I whisper instead, after a while. I don't really want breakfast now. I'd rather he continue what he's doing. But I need to think and I don't want to make a bad impression by showing up late for breakfast. I want his family to like me. I never cared if anyone liked me before but I need his family to like me.

"Right, breakfast," he says, resting his forehead against the side of my face. He brushes a kiss on my cheek and takes a few deep breaths before he straightens up. "But we need to talk before we go down for breakfast."

"Okay..." I say warily as he takes my hand and leads me to the sitting area of his suite. Nothing good comes out when people say that they need to talk to you. Has he changed his mind and now he's going to tell me that we're not going exclusive? I knew it was too good to be true.

He pulls me down onto a sofa beside him and keeps my hand in his. Our knees and thighs are touching as he sits facing me.

"Listen, I need to be honest with you," he says, running his free hand through his thick dark hair.

"Okay..."

"I haven't exactly told my family that I was bringing you home."

"What?" I jump, trying to pull my hand out of his grasp. But he seems to have predicted my reaction since he keeps a firm hold on my hand while his other hand is gripping my arm to prevent me from standing up.

"Can you please sit still and listen?" he asks. "This isn't easy for me."

Yeah, no kidding. Not easy is putting it mildly. We're natural-born enemies, even Romeo and Juliet are from the same species. "You're just going to spring me on your family? Really?"

He sighs. His grip on my hand and arm stays tight as though he's worried that I was about to spring up and ran. "Listen, I've told my father about you the day before and I meant to tell the rest of my family yesterday. I wanted to tell them about you and give them a little time to get used to the idea of you. I was planning to bring you home sometime later this week."

My frown deepens. "But you haven't told them."

"I didn't get the chance," he says. "I had to rush to get someone from Club Inferno yesterday evening and by the time we got back here, it was late. Besides, I've made up my mind last night," he comments as he gets up, pulling me with him. "Come on."

"Wait, you've made up your mind about what?" I ask him as he ushers me out the door. "Sacha?" I tug at his hand that's holding mine.

He turns to face me and replies, "I've made up my mind that no matter what happens, you're mine, princess. You're mine to protect and keep safe. With or without everyone's approval, I'm keeping you."

"You're keeping me?" I ask him. Maybe I don't have to go back to Astaroth? "For how long?"

"For a very long time."

Really? I bite my lip to keep from smiling. "Wait! I have something to say about that!"

He looks back with a raised eyebrow.

"I might decide to keep you and allow you to keep me," I announce. "But we'll see."

The smirk that appears on his face is half wicked and half amused. "Oh, you will," he says, full of confidence.

Darn sexy Nephilim! If Astaroth is known for his vanity, Asmodeus for lust, then I think Nephilims should be known for their arrogance.

But I love that about him. He's arrogant but he has the reason to be.

I'm a challenging being to be with. I am sly, reckless, and sometimes, dangerous. A lot of times, I push the boundaries to see how far I can go and how much I can get away with. A weak partner won't be able to keep up with me let alone keep me. A meek creature bore me to death.

I think I might want to keep this Nephilim.

*****

The main foyer is stately with a cavernously high ceiling, ornate crown moldings, and a gleaming marble floor. A huge crystal chandelier the size of a car is hanging at the bottom of a sweeping staircase. There are large windows everywhere, letting a generous amount of sunlight in.

For such a grand house, the Gauthier mansion still has a lot of warmth in it. You can feel it everywhere.

There is a faint sound of conversation threaded with laughter and the clinking of cutlery and dishes somewhere.

They are happy noises but the chunk of ice in my stomach feels heavier.

Sacha gives my hand a gentle squeeze before we enter a room where the noises and aroma of food came from.

It's a massive kitchen with three staff moving around. There are seven people sitting around a huge butcher block table enjoying their breakfast and each other's company. I recognize most of them from the pictures I've seen in Sacha's penthouse and also above the mantel in his private wing of the house.

The older couple at the head of the table must be his parents, Antoine and Julie Gauthiers. Then the two identical boys about my age, Ronan and Elias. Beside one of the twins is a beautiful redhead, surrounded by a faint glimmer of protection bubble. She must be Elias's girlfriend, Katherine. Across from them is the baby of the family, Ives and next to him is the regal-looking older lady, their great aunt, Tata Bijou.

Sacha lets me stand there for a second, taking everything in before the youngest brother, Ives turns his head and sees us. "Good morning, Sacha!" he calls out. "Darn, who's the hottie?"

The conversation suddenly stops, six heads turn toward us in unison, and someone drops his fork with a clank.

************************************************

Hello, my dearies!

My next update is going to be on Tuesday evening (est). If you want to read a chapter ahead, go to:

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Much love,

Nicole♥