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relationship. But even after six years, looking up into Lucan’s silver eyes made time rewind, as if this were the very first time he’d touched her.
    It delighted her. It worried her. More than anything, it
baffled
her. “Are we always going to be this intense?”
    “One can only pray.” One velvet-covered fingertip traced the full crescent of her bottom lip. “It’s the same for me, love,” he murmured. “I can never have enough of you.”
    A discreet chime from the door in the front foyer effectively broke the spell, and Sam eased out of Lucan’s arms. “That’s probably Burke.” She whisked a kiss against his jawline before she slipped around him and went to retrieve her gun and jacket. “I’ll see you later.”
    “Samantha.” He waited for her to look back at him. “If you’ve not returned by midnight, I will come and get you.”
    That he would. Lucan didn’t make threats; he made promises.
    As Sam had suspected, Lucan’s
tresora
stood politely waiting in the foyer. “Hello, Herbert. How’s it going?”
    “Very busy tonight—thank you, my lady.” Burke darted a look past her before he asked, “Has the suzerain risen yet?”
    “Oh, yeah. He’s up.” She took hold of his arm. “Why don’t you come downstairs with me for a few minutes. He needs some time to . . . settle down.”
    Burke winced. “Much as I wish I could, my lady, I must relay news. A group of Kyn has just arrived from Europe and they seek an audience with our lord.”
    “More refugees.” Lucan appeared beside Sam, his big frame clad in black trousers and a full-sleeved white shirt he was still fastening. “Does Cyprien intend to send to my doorstep every immortal made homeless by the Brethren?”
    “I cannot say, my lord,” Burke said. “But I am happy to report that Lord Jamys Durand has just arrived from North Carolina.”
    “Thierry’s son?” Lucan stopped buttoning his shirt. “Why has he come to me? His father made no mention of a visitation when last we spoke.”
    “He did not provide me with any details, my lord, but he travels alone.” Burke glanced at Samantha. “He also asked to see you, my lady.”
    “I’ve really got to run.” Sam checked her watch. “Tell Jamys I’ll catch him later.”
    As Sam took the elevator down to the first floor, she wondered how many of the Kyn refugees Lucan would be expected to absorb into their
jardin
. Since the Brethren had stepped up their efforts to drive the Kyn out of Europe, hundreds of the immortals had crossed the Atlantic seeking sanctuary from their American counterparts. Michael Cyprien assigned unoccupied territories to a select few suzerains he trusted, but the majority were sent to existing
jardins
, where nearly all were added to the ranks of the household or the garrison. Now and then old grudges between the American and European Kyn made absorption impossible, which forced Cyprien to send along those who could not be placed to the seigneurs in South America, Asia, or Scandinavia.
    From what Burke had told Lucan yesterday, this group of fifteen had come from the same
jardin
on the border of France and Italy, and were the survivors of a Brethren attack that had killed their suzerain, his household, and most of their garrison. Like the others that had come before them, for a time they’d probably be short-tempered, self-defensive, and prone to acts of stupidity. Lucan had been sending the ones he wanted to keep down to the island he owned in the Bahamas, where his seneschal, Rafael, would work with them until they were ready to be integrated with the rest of the stronghold’s garrison.
    Sam didn’t care to get involved in
jardin
business, but this latest group had shown up with little warning. Something seemed off about this, enough to make her reach out and press the button for the third floor.
    She’d just have a look at the new guys and then head in to work.
    Inside the reception room Sam glanced at Lucan and Burke, who had arrived ahead of her,