The King nodded and smiled. I couldn’t ask for better protection. The two put together were as deadly as they came.
I nodded and relinquished my most precious possession into the hands my Guardian Angel. Ethan seemed at peace with the situation as well. Pam and the King quietly left the office. We all stood silently, lost in our own thoughts. However, I was quite sure my thoughts were very different from those of Heathcliff, Raquel and Gareth.
“So did you pop that skank, Harry?” I asked Ethan with raised brows and my arms crossed over my chest.
“Um… we have to go,” Raquel said quickly as she grabbed Heathcliff and Gareth and pulled them toward the door with an expression of horror on her face.
“Yes,” Gareth said with a barely veiled grin. “Would hate to see my brother get his ass handed to him. Wait. I’d love to see that. I think we should stay.”
“We’re leaving,” Raquel hissed as she slapped her brother in the back of the head and shoved him out the door.
“We’ll be staying in my old quarters tonight if you need a place to bunk,” Heathcliff told Ethan with a quick bow as he sprinted after his mate.
“So you did poke her,” I said, starring daggers at Ethan.
“I’m a great deal older than you,” Ethan said, watching me warily. “You knew I wasn’t a saint.”
“This is correct,” I agreed with a careless shrug. “I have no control over the women you slept with before me. However, in the future you will inform me of your belt notches before I get blindsided by them during a meeting.”
“I’d forgotten about her,” he confessed sheepishly.
Inside I cheered, but outwardly I stayed cool. “She certainly didn’t.”
“I’m memorable,” he said with a smug grin.
“So you say…”
“Does someone who clearly meant little to nothing to me really bother you?” Ethan asked. He scrubbed his hand over his face and tried to hide his smile.
“Let’s turn that question around, Little Mister. How exactly would you feel if some dude was eyeball fucking me during a meeting because I’d horizontal mamboed with him several hundred years ago?”
His grin was gone—completely gone.
“Fair point. Well made,” he growled. “Shall I kill her?”
“Um, no,” I choked out on a somewhat horrified laugh. “You’d have to kill quite a few gals if I was that bloodthirsty. I’m not. I just didn’t like the darling thing and the drool.”
“Astrid, I’m yours completely. What can I do that would make you happy?”
I sat and contemplated for a long moment and then I felt a big very naughty grin pull at my lips. “After I talk with Satan, meet me in the empty suite on the third floor.”
“The one near our guests?” he asked with a raised brow and a sexy little smirk.
“Yep.”
His laugh went all through me and my tummy tingled with anticipation. I would show Harry-Scary-Larry-Mary just whose darling Ethan was. My kind understood two things things—violence and sex. Possession was nine tenths of the law and I was definitely in possession.
Chapter 7
“Do you have a wedding planner?” Satan asked, wandering around the office searching for something.
“I’ve been doing it myself,” I said following him to make sure he wasn’t absconding with more of our stuff. There weren’t many office supplies left after his last visit. I couldn’t have him stealing the furniture.
He came to an abrupt halt and I bashed right into him. “That’s ridiculous. You can’t plan a wedding for thousands by yourself.”
“Memo to the Devil,” I snapped. “We are not inviting thousands. It’s family and friends only.”
“Whose friends? My friends or your friends?”
“You don’t have any friends.”
“Right,” he replied with a shrug and a grin. “I keep forgetting that.”
He paced the office in agitation so I sat down and watched. My Uncle was not one to rush. He’d get to all of his points when he was ready—and apparently he wasn’t quite there yet.
“I could swear it was in here,” he muttered as he circled the room and rearranged Ethan’s belongings.
“What are you looking for?” I asked wanting to get to the part of the visit that including closing the portals.
“Nothing for you to worry about,” he replied as he ceased his meandering. He took a seat behind Ethan’s desk propping his Armani clad feet on top of it with a thud.
I stifled a giggle. Satan was a piece of work.
“I have three Demons I want you to meet. They’re all dying to meet you—no pun intended—and they’re gay,” he announced with great satisfaction.
“Oookay,” I said slowly, trying to figure out what gay Demons had to do with closing the portals. “Is it important that they’re gay?”
“Of course it is,” he huffed. “No one needs a straight wedding planner. It would be sinful.”
“First of all, I already told you that I’m planning the wedding myself. I don’t need a gay Demon.”
“Everyone needs a gay Demon,” Satan replied with an eye roll. “Are you homophobic?”
“I most certainly am not,” I snapped. “Why would you even say such an awful thing?”
“Because you said you would never have a gay Demon wedding planner.”