GRACE LET OUT an evil laugh. What to do? What to do? She scurried to the bathroom, slathered on the green facial mask she and her sister favored, and pulled her hair into a severe bun atop her head. After rubbing a little red lipstick on her teeth, she grinned and made her way back to her laptop. Powering up Skype, she entered in the address and waited for him to approve her contact request. Within seconds the ring of Skype sounded and she answered with video, making sure she had her red teeth showing.

“Well, hello, Grace.”

Grace let out a squeal or horror and jumped off the bed, out of camera range.

“Grace?” Max called.

“Um, hold on. Sorry. Sorry. I have to go.” She covered the camera with her finger and disconnected the call.

Her bedroom door popped open and Maggie stuck her head in the door. “Are you okay?”

“No!” Grace cried. “Ohmigod, ohmigod!”

The ring of Skype sounded again as Maggie stepped inside and closed the door. “Who’s that?”

“Probably Max.”

“Shut up! Maximilian MacMillan is Skype-ing you?” Maggie snapped. “You have to answer it.”

Grace waved her hands over her face. “Um, helloooo, I can’t!”

“Why are you all creepy looking?”

“It’s a long story.”

The sound of the ringing echoed again and Grace let out a frustrated squeal.

“I’m getting it,” Maggie said.

“No!”

But it was too late.

“Max?” Maggie said, her hand to her chest in adoration. “Hi. Oh my...ah...wow, it’s really you.”

“Hello, lass. Did you enjoy the show?”

Grace rushed out of the room and to the bathroom, scrubbing her face and brushing her teeth as fast as she could. She couldn’t feel her lips for some strange reason. She must be going into shock. Maybe if she just hid here, Maggie would bore Max to death and Grace wouldn’t have to talk to him.

“Grace,” Maggie hissed from the doorway. “He wants to talk to you.”

Grace rubbed her lips, trying to force circulation back into them. “Tell him I died.”

“Gracie. Come on.”

“No, tell him my toe fungus killed me.”

“What?” Maggie asked in horror. “You have toe fungus? Ew, gross.”

“No,” Grace said in irritation. “I thought Spencer wrote the note, as a practical joke.”

“Why would you think that?” Maggie asked, her face scrunched in confusion. “I gave you the note, not Spencer.”

Grace groaned again. “I know, Mags. I just thought maybe you were in it together.”

Maggie frowned and then burst into giggles. “Holy shit. Did you tell Max you had toe fungus?”

Grace nodded. “And lice, and seven cats. And that I was destitute.”

“Shut the fuck up.” Maggie’s giggles turned into guffaws. “Seriously? And you got on camera looking like the troll from under the bridge.”

“Yes. Rub it in, Mags, that helps.”

“Well, he’s waiting for you on Skype, so now that you look cute again, maybe you should talk to him.”

Grace shook her head. “No way. Go tell him I can’t talk to him.”

“No.”

“I’ll pay you.”

“You’re destitute, remember?” Maggie retorted.

“Please, Magpie. I can’t talk to him now.”

“You have to.” She waved her hand. “Come on, he’s waiting.”

Grace squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath. She followed her sister back into her bedroom. The laptop glared at her from the middle of her bed and she couldn’t help but pause in her steps.

Maggie sat on the bed and leaned toward the screen. “Hi, Max, she’ll be right with you.”

“Thanks, lass.”

Grace bit her lip. Oh, that voice. So incredibly sexy. Maggie climbed off the bed and pointed to the laptop. Grace frowned, shaking her head.

“Yes.”

“No,” Grace whispered. “Especially not with you in here.”

“I’ll leave you alone,” Maggie whispered, “if you promise to talk to him and fill me in on every detail.”

Grace gave a quick nod and Maggie tiptoed from the room.

“Grace?” Max called. “Are you there?”

“No,” she grumbled.

He chuckled. “Will you come and chat, lass?”

“I haven’t decided yet.”

“I’ve got all night and free wireless, so I can wait.”

Grace shuffled to the bed and held her finger over the camera as she sat down. She waited a few seconds before removing her hand and forcing a smile. “Hi.”

Max gave her the sexiest grin she’d ever seen. “Hi. You’ve done something different with your hair in the last ten minutes.”

“Um, right. Sorry about that. I thought my brother was pranking me.”

“So, no toe fungus or lice, then?”

She shook her head. “Not presently, no.”

“What about the cats?”

“Oh, those are real,” she retorted.

Max laughed. “Seven. That’s quite a few.”

She sighed. “One. We have one cat. He’s my mother’s.”

“Ah. I see.”

Grace needed to change the subject. Something to distract from him smiling at her...she couldn’t think when he was smiling at her. She glanced at the keyboard. “How was your show? Maggie said it was amazing.”

“It was good,” he said. “It would have been better if you’d been there.”

Grace cleared her throat. “Sorry. I couldn’t get out of my plans.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t jump at the chance to have all access.”

Grace forced a smile. “I made a commitment to someone else. I’m sorry that it didn’t work out.”

“I would have much preferred you were with me, but I suppose you’re forgiven, lass. Especially since we’re talking now.”

She felt irritation flood in. She didn’t really know why she was apologizing...and he forgave her? She hadn’t done anything wrong. “Well, I should really go. I have a long weekend ahead of me.”

“Your sister mentioned you’re singing this weekend.”

“Yes. I’m doing a favor for a friend and singing at her church.”

A frown flitted across his face, but didn’t last long. “How long have you been singing, lass?”

“Forever it seems like.”

“Would you like to sing with me sometime? I’d certainly be willing to do a duet with you, if you’d like to impress your friends.”

“You’d be willing?” she repeated, not sure she’d heard his offer right.

“Aye. You tell me what you’d like to sing and I’ll be happy to sing it with you.”

Oh, the nerve!

Grace shook her head. “No, thank you.”

He frowned again.

“I really should go,” she said.

“You can’t,” Max demanded. “Our conversation isn’t finished.”

“It is for me.” She hung up and shut down her laptop, lest he try to call again. Within seconds she felt guilt creep in at her rudeness, but she shook it off. Perhaps she’d write him a note of apology in the morning.

* * *

Max sat and stared at the blank Skype screen. He didn’t understand what had just happened. Never in the history of Maxdom had there been a woman who wouldn’t have swooned at the chance to sing with him. He knew he needed help, and he knew Con would be the best person to talk to. His mate, Pepper, had been human before he bound her. Pepper was also American. Which meant she might have insight that he wouldn’t have. He checked his watch. It wasn’t too early back in Scotland. He dialed the number.

“Hi, Max.” Connall picked up on the first ring. “You okay?”

“Yeah.”

A pause.

“How’s it going with Grace?”

Max swore.

“That good, eh?” Connall chuckled. “What’s worse? The human aspect or the American?”

“Hey,” Pepper snapped in the background.

“I’m going with both,” Max said, “since I’ve yet to spend any time with her.”

“Give me the phone,” Pepper demanded.

Max rolled his eyes. Pepper was strong, passionate, and very pregnant. Connall would do just about anything she told him to do right about now.

“Have you completely fucked it up yet?” she asked.

“I’m guessing I’m not far off, lass,” Max admitted. “So why don’t you lay your wisdom on me? I could use all the help I can get.”

“What have you tried?” she asked.

Max relayed the interview and note attempt, and then filled Pepper in on the newest development about Grace being a church-going girl and their strange Skype call.

“Oh, Max,” Pepper said with a giggle. “Did you really ask her to sing with you the way you just said?”

“Aye. Why? What’s wrong with that? There are millions of women who’d kill to sing with me.”

Pepper laughed. “That’s exactly the problem, Max. You were offering it to her as though you were the Pope offering a blessing.”

“So?”

“So, that made you sound arrogant, buddy.”

“But it is an honor,” he grumbled. “I didn’t mean for it to sound arrogant.”

“I know you didn’t.” Pepper laughed again. “It’ll be okay. She’ll figure out you’re not so bad. And you’ll figure out that even good girls can be fun. You’re just going to have to adjust and realize you’re not the greatest thing on earth.”

“How the hell am I supposed to approach her now, Pepper? Niall’s the nice one. He’s the one who knows what to say. I just smile and talking becomes unnecessary.”

“Max, you’re nice too, you just don’t want to admit it,” Pepper said. “You’re going to have to be patient. And you’re probably going to have to put in some work. Depending on the amount of television she watches, the number of magazines she reads, and the types of Internet sites she goes to, she’ll only know what she’s seen in the media, so she’s going to be a little suspect about you, especially if she’s not of age. Con thinks it’ll be easier if you wait until her birthday. I personally think it’ll be hard regardless of her age. I was twenty-five and felt drawn to Connall, but not knowing exactly who and what he was, I couldn’t fathom what that meant. I just thought I was attracted to him.”

Max shook his head. “Yeah, well, the problem is that I can’t wait. Not now that I know who she is.”

“Okay, then this is my suggestion.”

Max listened and took mental notes as Pepper filled him in on what she thought he should do. He felt as though he was going to have to climb a bloody high mountain to get to Grace, but he was coming to terms with the fact that he didn’t really have a choice.

* * *

Sunday morning, Max’s driver, Bruce, pulled into the crowded parking lot of the address he’d been given by Broc.

“This can’t be right,” Max said.

Loving Faith Church was in the middle of a strip mall in a rundown part of the city. The building used to house a discount department store, but it was now home to what Americans called a “mega church.”

“This is a church?”

“Aye,” Niall said.

Max stared up at the sign as Bruce parked the car. Once the car stopped, Max climbed out and Niall followed.

“Fuck me, it’s ugly.”

“I’d keep that opinion to yourself, Max.” Niall clapped his brother on the shoulder. “This is a house of worship.”

“It doesn’t look like any church I’ve seen.”

“According to Payton, the church is made up of the people in it, not the building.”

“Maybe.” Max started toward the entrance. “However, I’m still half expecting to be smoted.”

Niall laughed and led Max through the automatic sliding doors where a large man, tattooed and tan, held out his hand. “Welcome.”

Niall shook his hand and took the pamphlet he held out. Max did the same and they headed into the large building. They were pleasantly surprised that the building wasn’t much warmer than outside, which meant they’d be able to stay without harm. Unable to survive in temperatures over sixty-eight degrees Fahrenheit, the Cauld Ane were limited on where they could travel.

As they walked through a makeshift doorway, cordoned off by large black velvet drapes, they entered a massive room with hundreds of plastic chairs, a large stage at the front of the room, and sound booth at the back. The stage was dark, and Max was a little taken aback to hear an electric guitar echo through the room. When a woman’s voice sounded, he moved so he could get a better look as the lights came up, and was riveted to the floor. It was Grace. She commanded the stage and sung like an angel. He found himself irritated when another voice came into the mix—perfect harmony, but overshadowing Grace.

“Let’s sit down,” Niall whispered.

Max nodded and followed his brother to the back row, sitting on the aisle so he could still see Grace. He spent the next twenty minutes enraptured by her.

Max suffered through the service, and was pleasantly surprised that the whole thing didn’t kill him, but he wanted out as soon as possible. “Let’s find Grace and get out of here.”

Niall held up a card from the bulletin they’d received on their way in. “There are two more services.”

“What?”

“There are apparently four services on Sundays and two on Saturdays. We’re at the second one, so there’s still two more to go.”

“She sings at six services in a weekend?” Max asked in surprise.

Niall shrugged. “I assume so.”

Max’s mouth dropped open. “That’s almost a concert schedule.”

“Aye, it is.”

“Excuse me,” a quiet voice interrupted their conversation.

Max looked up to see a group of young women staring at him.

“Are you Max and Niall from Fallen Crown?” a petite blonde asked.

“Aye,” Max said, surprised that anyone in a church would know who they were.

She held out her church bulletin. “Will you please sign this?”