There’s no help for it. I have to go get her. With one last smile at Iris, I leave the kitchen. I find Monroe standing at the front door, looking absolutely stunning in a fitted green dress that hits just above her knees. Her blond hair is styled in messy waves that my hands itch to sink into, and she’s got her customary bloodred lipstick on. I stare at her mouth for a long moment. Impossible not to be hit with the memory of how good it felt to have her between my thighs, using that wicked tongue to bring me to orgasm.

She smiles widely. A real smile that reaches her green eyes. As if she’s actually happy to see me. “Good morning, love.”

I’m not a nickname kind of person, but from her it feels remarkably natural. “Hey.” I hesitate. Should I try to explain why I wasn’t there when she woke up?

But it seems to be a moot point. Monroe loops her arm through mine and turns us toward the door. “It seems the baby Paine has drawn the short straw of delivering us today. Poor thing.”

Sure enough, Gabriel is in the courtyard, standing next to one of the identical trucks we use to get around. He nods at me, though his gaze flicks to where Monroe is plastered to my side. I open the door for her and raise my brows at him. “I would think you’d be with Fallon.” Like Monroe, as heir, she gets to travel to and from the Mystic’s faction to work during the day.

“We needed a break.” His tone discourages me from asking more questions. I still don’t understand why Abel gave Fallon to Gabriel, of all his brothers. He’s twenty-seven, so he’s hardly a baby, but he’s been sheltered to some degree in the way the other Paine brothers haven’t. And, best I can tell, Fallon is fucking feral. She’s like some wolf you’d find in the mountains, cold and predatory and all too willing to rip out your throat if you infringe on her territory.

I hate to say it, but Gabriel is outmatched.

The trip across the river into Amazon territory passes in uncomfortable silence. For once, Monroe doesn’t seem interested in poking at me and flirting; she’s too busy thinking. Or maybe things have changed after last night, and this is just the first indication of it.

I don’t like the pang that goes through me at the thought. While I can’t deny that things weren’t working before, I’ve come to value my time with Monroe. I don’t want to lose it.

I manage to keep my silence until we’re in the elevator up to Monroe’s office, but once the doors close, the words spill out. “Are you mad at me?”