Her cousin would have to talk some sense into Wayne. She’d reviewed the specials with the bartender and double-checked all was well with the kitchen staff as the evening shift swung into gear.Through it all, she had the massive shadow of a Knight of the Round Table hovering over her shoulder. A man in his prime beyond any doubt, but a man caught in the wrong century. Rather than get irritated with his looming presence, she counted her blessings that he hadn’t yet stalked off into the city in search of whatever dark power had stolen her dagger. Fortunately, the dog seemed to be on her side, making himself a popular new attraction with her regular customers who filled barstools at the working end of the long bar.“Things are controlled,” Wayne said, leaning across the bar top. “I will walk you home now.”“Sure. Just one m -”“You’re stalling.” She stopped moving. A rack of clean glassware in her hands, her eyes shot to the door for the umpteenth time, hoping the next man through it would be Nick.
