Dinner was almost over. Anwyn glanced up from the last swallow of her blood cocktail, neatly presented in a wineglass that picked up the candelight on the table. She’d never done much entertaining in her apartment beneath Atlantis, but she did have a six-person dining room table off the kitchen. Most of the time, she’d used it for spreading out tax receipts and other projects related to running her business, but since arriving Debra had dug things out of storage she’d almost forgotten she had. Place mats, attractive dinnerware pieces she’d picked up in boutiques more for their pleasing appearance than a coordinated theme. “Excuse me?” she asked, aware of Gideon’s gaze snapping up from his plate. While she and Brian were taking blood only, Brian’s servant had prepared an appetizing combination of steak and potatoes for Gideon, with a side vegetable casserole and salad for her. She’d made enough to share with Gideon, if he felt the need to ingest something green and reasonably healthy.
