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Nicky was squirain

"Who's that man?" he demanded

"Just soed hiht

"I'm not a poppet," he said distinctly, "I'm Nicky And I'm not three, Mummy I'm four!"

There was a rasp, a sharp intake of breath behind her, and then the roohtness Footsteps, rapid, urgent, a hand on her shoulder, pulling her away from her son so that his face was visible

His face — with his dark, Andreakos eyes, his black hair, his Mediterranean skin tone Only the shape of his face was hers

"Thee mou —"

Leon's voice shook His brother's eyes looked up at him out of his nephew's face

Alanna stirred the coffee in herround and round with the teaspoon She wanted to drink it, was desperate for the caffeine — desperate for anything that ed nerves — but it was too hot On the far side of the kitchen table, pally toward her, Leon loomed like an unholy presence

Alanna hunched into her chair

"Give ood reason why you hid him! One!"

His voice cut at her, and the teaspoon jerked in her grip

One good reason? She could give him a dozen!

"I'd have thought it was obvious," she said tightly She lifted her eyes, like dead weights, to Leon's

He was glaring down at her There was anger in his face — but more, much more She could not tell what it was She had never seen such emotions in him before She was used to only three einning of their relationship when she'd been so i with desire, when his eyes had taken on an expression she learned to knoell, sending tre her