Warriors of Poseidon 06 - Atlantis Betrayed

her eyes popped open.
    Christophe came walking out of the bathroom, hair wet and a towel slung low on his hips, and strolled over to the window to look out. She took a few moments to enjoy the view before she let him know she was awake. His broad chest tapered down into sharply defined abdominal muscles, which veed down between his hips. He was a purely perfect specimen of masculine form, and he was hers.
    “Good morning,” she said, and enjoyed seeing that she’d surprised him.
    “I thought you’d sleep for quite a while.” He crossed to the bed and leaned down to kiss her.
    She enjoyed the kiss, but decided to table any further discussion of soul-melding and forever until her emotions were on more solid ground, so she took refuge in practicality. “What’s on the agenda for today?”
    “Change of plans. You’ve got a lot of friends who might be Fae, whether you realize it or not, and I think we can kill two barnacles with one shell.”
    She started to laugh. “It’s kill two birds with one stone.”
    He grimaced. “Why would I want to kill birds with stones? Anyway, the only ones slow enough for that trick would be the palace peacocks, and even I think they’re too pretty to kill.”
    “I feel a little like I’ve fallen down the rabbit hole again,” she moaned, still smiling at him so he knew she was teasing.
    “Look, forget birds. We’re going Fae hunting. I think the Fae may be pulling a double-cross, here, urging both shifters and vamps to believe it’s the other who stole the sword and the Siren. Also, we can ask about Denal. Are you with me, partner?”
    She jumped out of bed. “I know just the place to start. One of my contacts, the first to give me the tip about the man who wanted Vanquish, actually. He owns a pub, and he’s Maeve’s cousin.”
    “Which means he’s Fairsby’s cousin, too,” Christophe said. “I knew that damned Unseelie Fae was involved in this somehow.”
    She headed for the bathroom. “Give me twenty minutes to shower.”
    His eyes flared hot, and he followed her and tossed his towel on the rack. “We’re not in that big of a hurry. I think you need me to wash your back.”
    It took far longer than twenty minutes.
    The Prancing Pony pub
    Atlantis Betrayed – Warriors of Poseidon 06
    Page 154 of 188
    It had taken a while to get Hopkins and Declan caught up, and even Sean had eaten breakfast with them.
    Hopkins had already called Fiona’s assistant, Madeleine, and given her the week off and done the same for the rest of the staff, so there would be no interruptions or distractions. By the time she and Christophe managed to escape, it was nearly lunchtime. Sean had dropped them off, darkly muttering something about errands, and promised to be back in two hours unless Fiona needed him sooner.
    She had never spent so much time in pubs in her life. A lady didn’t frequent pubs, of course. She defiantly took another sip of her ale, sending a mental piss off to her grandfather.
    “I’ve never liked ale before, but it’s really quite perfect with the fish and chips, isn’t it?” She chose another chip and blissfully poured vinegar on it and doused it with more salt. “I could quite get used to this pub food.”
    Christophe grinned and shook his head. “I’m corrupting you. Today ale and pub food, tomorrow who knows? Reality TV?”
    “You know about reality TV? In Atlantis?”
    “Riley told us about it. Another sign of the decline of humanity, if you ask me.” He nodded toward the bar. “There he is.”
    She turned. It was him. “How could you know which one is Maeve’s cousin?”
    He was right, though. “Yes, that’s Paul.”
    “Not exactly a brilliant deduction. He’s the only Fae who walked behind the bar like he owned it.” He leaned forward. “You’ve got a little salt right there.”
    Instead of wiping the corner of her mouth, he kissed it, and then he kissed her some more, and soon she was necking in a pub like a proper ninny.
    “Stop,” she said, pulling away. “I have a reputation to uphold.”
    “I look at it more like I have a reputation to destroy. Namely, yours.” A slow, wicked smile spread across his face. “Sex on a balcony in broad daylight, kissing in a pub—what’s next? The fall of the British aristocracy, I bet.”
    “Shh!” She looked around, but nobody was paying them any attention, except for Paul, and he was too far away to have heard. “You’re too bad.”
    “Nope. I’m just bad enough, and you love