Mary could only shake her head. She’d thought that she’d fallen in love with Rhage before. Thought she loved him with all her heart. Thought that he was her soulmate, her center, her never-gonna-get-better-than-this.

Yadda, yadda, yadda.

Seeing him curl his enormous body around that little girl as he hugged Bitty back?

Well, what do you know, not only did it turn out her ovaries had a little spark left in them—the suckers might as well have exploded between her hip bones.

When the three of them started walking again, Rhage kept one hand on Bitty’s shoulder. Like for the both of them it was the most normal thing in the world—even though Rhage had to tilt to the side and the pair of them bumped into each other until they got their strides on a par.

As they closed in on the restaurant, Mary glanced around and ID’d the other families—and she couldn’t help but open the fantasy door for a split second and pretend that her little unit was just like all the others. That they were a mom and a dad and a daughter, going out to dinner to talk about silly stuff and serious stuff and nothing at all—before they headed back home to a safe place together.

Rhage jumped ahead to open the door, and inside, the restaurant was exactly as he’d described it, noisy and busy and teeming with life. Fortunately, Bitty seemed more curious than nervous, although she stuck with Rhage as he went up to the hostess stand and asked for three in a booth, if possible.

The brunette who was behind the cash register took one look at him—and what do you know, no waiting for Rhage. As the young woman smiled with all her teeth and did a little shimmy as she pulled a trio off the pile of menus, Mary shook her head in apology at the other twelve people in line.

“Right this way!”

The hostess hipped her way through the different sections of the place, taking them to the far side where there was, in fact, a booth that had just been cleaned off, its surface still wet, no silverware rolls put out yet. The latter was taken care of immediately as Rhage and Bitty sat on one side and Mary took the bench across from them.

“Enjoy your meal,” the hostess said to Rhage.

Before anyone could say a word, a blonde with short hair and a lot of eye makeup came by with waters on a tray. Her expression was a combination of bored and harried—until she saw who she was serving.

Mary just smiled and shook her head as she opened her menu. As she checked out the enormous variety of food offered, she was dimly aware of some conversation happening, but she didn’t bother with any of that.

When they were alone, Rhage opened his menu. “Okay, what do we got—”

“Do they always do that?” Bitty asked.

“Do what?” He turned a laminated page. “Who?”

“The human females. Stare at you like that.”

Rhage picked up his water glass for a test sip. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“It’s like they want to order a meal of you?”

Water. Went. Everywhere. As Rhage coughed and fisted his chest, Mary had to laugh. Also had to unroll her fork, knife, and spoon and do a little mop-up.

“Yes, they do,” Mary said. “They get sucked into the Awesome Zone and can’t pull out.”

Rhage dragged in a breath. “I don’t know . . . what either of you are talking about.”

Bitty turned to him. “You don’t see how—”

“I don’t notice them.” Rhage looked the girl straight in the eye. “My Mary is the only female I see. That is the way it is and ever will be. The others can trip over themselves all they like, they will never match up to what I have been blessed with, and I will never, ever have anything to do with them.”

Bitty seemed to consider that for a moment. Then she picked up her own menu with a little smile. “I think that’s really nice.”

“So, what do you feel like having?” Mary asked. “Both of you.”

“I’m in a steak kind of mood.” Rhage turned another page. “And also Mexican. And chicken. And I think I gotta rock some potatoes.”

Mary leaned across to Bitty. “Good thing there are only three of us. We’re going to need the table space for his plates.”

“I don’t know what to get,” the girl said. “I’ve never seen . . . so much.”

“Well, I’m willing to share.” Mary closed things up and put the sheath on the edge of the table. “But I’m just going to get a big salad.”

“I’m still working on my list.” Rhage nudged Bitty with his elbow. “I think you should get at least one thing on your own. You deserve to have your own plate—plus I can eat whatever you don’t finish.”

When the waitress came back, she had eyes only for Rhage—and it was funny; Mary could remember being insecure about that sort of thing in the beginning of their relationship . . . especially in light of that one episode. Now, though? It truly didn’t bother her. Rhage had not lied. These women could literally strip down to their hey-how’re-ya’s in front of him and he would have no more interest in them sexually than he would a sofa.

Amazing how your mate could make you feel cherished without actually saying a word to you.

“So what are you thinking?” the waitress asked Rhage.

“First, my ladies. Bitty?”

The girl seemed to panic. “I don’t know. I don’t—”

“You mind if I make a suggestion?” Rhage asked. When she nodded, he said, “Have the mac-and-cheese side with the broccoli side and the crispy chicken fingers with the honey barbecue sauce. Simple. Easy on the stomach. Not a lot of confusion with the old taste buds.”

Bitty seemed to brace herself. Then she looked at the waitress. “May I please have that?”

The waitress nodded. “No problem.”

“My Mary?”

Mary smiled. “I’ll have the grilled chicken Cobb salad please, with no avocado and no bleu cheese—for dressing, just ranch or something like that would be great. On the side.”

“We have ranch.” The waitress focused on Rhage, her eyes clinging to his face, his shoulders, his chest. “And you?”

“Well, I do believe I’ll start with the buffalo wings and the loaded potato skins. Then I’d like the hibachi chicken skewers, the New York strip with the half rack of both the barbecue ribs and the Memphis-rubbed, the strip done medium, and I’ll finish with the triple-stack Reuben. Oh, and I think I want the all-American burger, too. Medium, as well. Oh, and ranch with the wings, please. On the side.”

As he closed the menu, he seemed to be unaware that he was being stared at.

“Yes?” he said to the waitress.

“Are you—are you waiting for more people?”

“Nope.” He gathered the menus and handed them over. “And may I have two Cokes, please? Ladies?”

“Water’s good for me,” Mary said. “Bitty? Water or a soda? Water? Okay, she’ll take water—and then I think we’re done. And very hungry, as you can see.”

As the waitress walked off with a set of wall-eyes, Bitty started to giggle. “You’re not going to really eat all that, are you?”

“Heck, yeah.” Rhage put out his palm. “Wanna bet me?”

Bitty shook his hand. “But what happens if I lose?”

“You have to finish what’s left.”

“I can’t do that!”

As the pair of them went back and forth, Mary just watched them, the huge, impossibly beautiful male with the small little sprite of a girl as comfortable with each other as you could get.

“Mary?”

She shook herself. “What?”

Rhage reached his hand across the table. “Bitty’s asked how we met.”

As Mary clasped his palm, she had to smile. “Oh, you wouldn’t believe it.”

“Tell me?” the girl asked, sitting forward. “Please?”

When Assail was satisfied that there was no closed-circuit, or otherwise, monitoring in the study, he went to the carved door panels and cracked one open. Hearing nothing, he stepped out into the foyer and stood stock-still, listening for sounds of voices or footsteps.