“I do not want to know,” Lucian interrupted shortly, and then glanced to Dante. “You said Mary was a psychologist before she retired?”
Dante nodded, surprised and a little confused by the question until Lucian said, “Then perhaps you could ask her to have a session or two with Bricker while she is here.”
“Ha ha,” Justin said dryly.
Lucian ignored him and added, “I shall pay for them out of my own pocket just to ensure he is well enough to be on the job . . . and carrying a weapon.”
“I shall mention it to her,” Dante said, amusement replacing his dismay.
“Hardy har, har,” Justin said dryly. “I drag myself away from my hot and sexy Holly to help out around here, and this is the appreciation I get?”
“Mary is a new life mate,” Mortimer pointed out as if Justin hadn’t spoken. “It might be better to call Lissianna’s husband, Greg. He is a psychologist, is he not?”
“Good thinking,” Lucian decided, pulling out his phone. “I shall call him now. In the meantime, Justin, drive Dante to the nearest store that would carry condoms.”
“Sure,” he said, rolling his eyes. Leading the way to the door, he added, “I’ll check the sense of humor aisle while I’m there and see if I can get you both one.”
“Check the brain aisle as well,” Lucian suggested. “I suspect you left yours there the last time you were shopping.”
Justin paused abruptly with his hand on the door and turned to stare at Lucian with amazement. “Did you just make a joke?”
“No,” Lucian said firmly.
“Yes, you did,” Justin countered, grinning. “It wasn’t a very good one, but you made a joke, Lucian. Holy shit, I never thought I’d see the day.” Pulling the door open, he walked out into the hall, shaking his head, and crooned, “Lucian Argeneau, cracking jokes. Well, I never!”
Dante stared after the man and then glanced back to Lucian, his eyebrows rising.
“Go ahead,” Lucian said on a sigh. “He is an idiot, but a good lad despite that.”
“I’ll take your word for it,” Dante muttered and hurried out of the room after the other man.
Mary was out of bed and staring out the bedroom window when Dante returned from his quest for condoms.
“I have them,” he said triumphantly, holding up the bag holding the items as he entered.
Mary glanced to the bag, but then asked, “Where are we?”
Dante had tossed the bag on the bed and was pulling off his T-shirt, but paused with it off his head but still on his arms at that question. “What?”
“Where are we?” she repeated more slowly. “Last I knew we were in Texas, but judging by the amount of snow out there, this isn’t Texas. Where are we?”
“Oh.” He finished taking off his shirt and tossed it over one of the chairs. He then crossed the room to join her at the window. Slipping his arms around her from behind, Dante pulled her back against his chest and peered out at the snowy back yard. It was night, but between the house’s outdoor lights, the lights on the buildings behind the house, and his night vision, he was able to get a good look at the landscape. It was starting to warm a little as spring approached. There were patches of grass showing in spots, but it had been a hard winter and there was still a lot of snow out there.
Bending to press a kiss to the top of Mary’s head, he explained, “We are at the Enforcer House in Toronto.”
“Toronto?” she asked with amazement. “As in Ontario, Canada?” When he grunted a yes, she asked, “But how did we—?”
“We flew out an hour after the accident,” Dante said quietly. “We would have left sooner, but we had to pick up Bailey first.”
“How on earth did you get me through customs and immigration without a passport or my even being conscious?” Mary asked, sounding stunned. “And what did they say about my injuries? I mean they must have noticed my head all bent out of shape.”
“We have our own planes and do not go through customs and immigration,” he said with amusement.
Mary turned slightly and tilted her head to ask, “How do you manage that?”
Dante just raised an eyebrow and waited.
“Oh,” she murmured, after a moment. “Mind control and stuff.”
Nodding, he smiled and then kissed the tip of her nose. “It comes in quite handy in certain situations.”
“I guess,” Mary agreed dryly and turned to peer out the window again before murmuring, “Toronto.”
Something about the way she said the city’s name caught his attention and Dante glanced down at the top of her head, wishing he could see her expression. He couldn’t, however, so asked, “What are you thinking?”
“My daughter lives here,” she said softly. “Her husband’s company transferred him here four years ago and they moved. I’ve missed having her and the kids in Winnipeg. I don’t get to see them as much.”