She took it, guiding the champagne carefully through. “That’s very gentlemanly of you.”

“Hand me one of those bottles. You should not carry both.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.” He opened his hand for her to place one of the bottles in it.

She did, but her smile seemed to lessen a bit.

“Something wrong?”

Her gaze shifted to the house. “It’s nothing. Just a little nervous. Parties do that to me, I guess.”

He nodded as he looked around. Cars lined the street in both directions. Every window in the house blazed with light, showing off just how packed it was inside. And more people were walking up the driveway. He understood how intimidating it must feel. “Everyone is very friendly.”

“I’m sure they are.”

“But you do not know anyone.”

She smiled brighter as she made eye contact, but the crinkles around her eyes betrayed her nerves. “Just you.”

“I’ll introduce you. You will see. Very friendly.” His dragon instincts kicked in a little, the urge to protect impossible to resist. But she wasn’t in any grave danger. Being uncomfortable wasn’t life threatening.

Still, he would do what he could. Normally, Pandora would take over in a situation like this, but tonight she was the hostess. She couldn’t spend her evening making sure Lisa was all right. “Ready to go in?”

“Yes.” She lifted her bottle like a soldier wielding a sword before heading into battle. “Let’s do this.”

Monalisa’s nerves weren’t a put-on. She really was nervous, and for a whole host of reasons. One, she was worried she’d be recognized. Yes, she was miles and miles away from home, but her father entertained a lot, and she was always expected to make an appearance, so her face was fairly well known in the upper classes of the supernatural community. She was the daughter of the king of the leprechauns, after all. And there was no way of knowing who might be here.

Two, she’d slipped up twice already by admitting she was Irish and saying she was from Vegas. She couldn’t afford a third time, and with all the small talk she would have to make, there was no telling what might accidentally come out of her mouth. She was, apparently, not that great at lying.

Her father would be so disappointed.

And three, there were the normal nerves of going to a party where she didn’t know anyone. Van would no doubt be busy with all his friends. They’d have their own stories and inside jokes and had probably known each other for ages. Meanwhile, she was not only a stranger, but she couldn’t even be herself.

She’d be walking a fine line all evening between not saying too much while still trying to appear social. A night like this should be fun, but she doubted it would be for her. More like work.

Regardless, she was going to make the best of it, because for all those reasons to be nervous, there was the huge benefit of no one knowing who she was. With any luck. No leprechaun pun intended. Could there be someone in this town who’d hobnobbed with her father? Maybe. But it was probably unlikely, even with as many people as seemed to be here. She hoped. And so, clinging to that hope, despite the rest of her worries, she put a big smile on her face and prepared to face the evening.

They walked into the house, and Pandora greeted them almost instantly, even though there was a crowd milling about.

“I’m so glad you could come.” She hugged them both, Van first, then Monalisa.

It shook Monalisa. She wasn’t accustomed to much physical contact. People didn’t generally touch her, being royalty, unless she touched them first. And her parents certainly weren’t the affectionate kind.

Van held up his bottle of champagne. “For you.”

Monalisa offered the one she was holding as well.

“Thank you so much! That’s so fabulous. Who doesn’t love good champagne? And that looks like exceptional bubbly.” Pandora took both the bottles. “Now you two get in there and get something to eat and drink while I stick these babies in the fridge. I won’t take no for an answer. There’s too much of both, and I need help getting rid of it. Food’s in the dining room here. Drinks are in the kitchen. Which is where I’m headed.”

She winked at Monalisa and took off.

Van looked at her. “Eat or drink?”

She had no appetite for either, but a drink might take the edge off. Just one, though. No point in tempting fate. “Drink.”

“Come,” Van said, patting Monalisa’s hand. Then he took hold of his crutch and moved them forward.

Oddly, other than a few nods of the head and some interesting looks, no one paid much attention to Van as they made their way deeper into the house. They finally stopped in the kitchen, where the party was especially boisterous around the table. Small groups of people were clustered together, laughing and talking and enjoying short glasses of something pink. The punch on the table, from the looks of it.

She let go of Van’s arm. The heat from his body had sunk into her, making her almost shiver as it began to dissipate. “Why don’t I get us some of that punch? Seems to be the thing to drink. Unless you want something else?”

“No. That is good.”

“Okay, I’ll be right back.” She made her way to the table and the enormous crystal bowl sitting there. The pink punch had slices of citrus floating in it, and there were bottles of top shelf vodka and rum sitting in chillers nearby. Maybe so guests could add their own spirits? She watched as someone came up to the table and did just that.