He smiled, making quick eye contact in the rearview mirror again. “I’m a ranger-class gargoyle.”

“Oh, wow, how cool. You’ll have to forgive me. I don’t know much about the classes. Where does that put you?”

“Right in the middle. Can’t fly, but when I shift, I’m about the size of this vehicle.”

“And he is fast,” Van added. “The two classes above him can fly, and they’re larger, but they do not move with the same speed.”

Harlan nodded. “Also, I can take a hit like you wouldn’t believe.”

Van snorted. “I have had the bleeding knuckles to prove it.”

She scooted to the middle to see both of them better. “So Harlan, do you fight for the TFL too?”

“No, ma’am. I mean, Monalisa.” He grinned. “I’m a lover, not a fighter.”

Van looked at him. “Since when? You have not had a girlfriend since I’ve known you.”

Harlan shook his head. “What about Sasha? And Laurette? And Monica?”

“One date does not a girlfriend make.”

Monalisa liked Harlan. She also liked teasing Van. She poked him in the arm. “One date is all we’ve had.”

Harlan let out a sharp, “Hah.”

Van turned to look at her again. “What about the housewarming party?”

“That didn’t count.”

“Lunch at Howler’s, then.”

“Hmm.” She tapped her finger on her chin. “I’ll give you half-a-date credit for that one. But dinner at Café Claude’s last night was really the only official date we’ve had.” She actually didn’t feel that way, but it was fun to give him the business.

“I see. So I am failing as a boyfriend, then?” His eyes glimmered with happiness, showing her he was in on the joke.

“Oh yes, miserably.” She laughed even as she said the words, because it was such a fat lie. He was amazing in every way.

Van nodded like he was taking it all into consideration. “I will strive to do better. Up my game, as the kids say.”

She leaned up and kissed him, just a quick one so that Harlan didn’t have to endure anything too personal between them. “I can’t wait to see what that looks like.”

“We’re here,” Harlan said. “And just in time.”

Monalisa ducked to see through the windshield a little better. “Wow, a drive-through lobby? That’s fancy.”

Harlan nodded. “This place caters to all kinds of supes, and sometimes, the more privacy the better. Although, I think the drive-through is most helpful to the vamps who live here. The desert is a very sunny place.”

“Good point.” She sat back and grabbed her purse.

Van clapped Harlan on the shoulder. “I’ll get the bags. You go home and get some sleep.”

“You got it, boss.” Harlan looked over his shoulder. “Nice to meet you, Monalisa. See you in the morning.”

“See you in the morning. Thank you for driving us.” She hopped out as the doorman opened her door.

“Good evening.” He smiled.

“Good evening.” She looked around. The Skye Towers lobby was exactly what she’d expected. Vegas chic, which meant smoked glass, steel, and sparkly quartz. A dazzling cobalt blue chandelier washed everything in a mellow light.

Van retrieved their bags, then closed the SUV hatch and gave it a tap. Harlan waved through the open window and drove off.

“Help you with those, Mr. Tsvetkov?”

“No, thank you, Roger.”

“All right. You have a good night, sir.”

Van gave him a nod, then they walked to the elevator banks. Van set the bags down to tap in his floor, and one of the doors opened immediately. He picked up the bags, and they got on, riding up in silence. Despite her nap on the plane, she was still a bit tired.

The elevator stopped, opening onto another smaller lobby. More steel and quartz, this time with cobalt blue accent lighting. There was only one other door.

She pointed at it. “Is that yours?”

He nodded. “Punch 9089 into the keypad by the door.”

She went over and did as he asked. A soft hiss came from the door, followed by a sharp snick.

“It’s open,” he said.

She pushed it wide but looked back at him. “You have the whole floor?”

He nodded. “It’s a good place.”

She guessed so. Then she walked in, and there was no more guessing.

Van tapped the lighting panel to bring the space to life. He had owned his condo in the Skye Towers for ten years. This was the first time he’d ever wondered if a woman would like what he’d done with the place.

He tried to see it through Monalisa’s eyes as she wandered ahead of him.

Maybe it was too masculine. All the grays and browns mixed with chrome and leather did nothing to add a feminine touch. Or too industrial. The concrete countertops and glass wall panels offered no warmth. It was definitely too modern. Where were the soft edges? And the flourishes?

He sighed. At least the suede couches were comfortable. And the artwork, all bought from local galleries, offered some color. And the view was remarkable, especially at night like this, when the city was a jewel box of lights.

But she lived in the Shamrock. She must be used to a level of luxury that made this place look like a sad hotel.

“Oh, Van.”

He braced himself.

She turned, face beaming. “This place is amazing.”