But first of all, he had to help her get her freedom. There would be no future together, and no real future of any kind for her, until that happened.
The server led them to a nice secluded booth, making Van wonder if that was because of his date comment or just chance. Either way, it was a good table.
Monalisa slid around until she was next to him. He liked that. Liked having her close. Loved it, actually.
Maybe even loved her.
He stared at her with that thought stuttering in his head. It was frightening and wonderful and way too soon. He understood that. Saying such a thing would scare her off, he thought. Yes, he would keep these feelings to himself awhile longer. Give himself a chance to make sure that was what his heart was telling him.
His dragon side already knew. But his dragon side was much more emotionally driven, and given to impulse. Both sides of himself had to be completely sure before he let those words slip from his tongue.
“Can I bring you a bottle of wine?” the server asked.
“Not for me,” Van said. He was training now. He had to respect the process, and that meant no alcohol. He looked at Monalisa. “But get whatever you like.”
“Are you not drinking because of the fight?”
He nodded.
She turned to answer the server. “No wine for us tonight, thank you.”
The server gave them a little bow. “I’ll give you a few minutes to look over the menu, then.”
Van put his hand on hers. “You can have wine if you want. Get a whole bottle. I don’t care. It won’t affect me or my training. And money is no issue.”
“You’re right, money isn’t an issue, because this is going on my father’s credit card. But hey, we’re a team, right? So none for me either. If you’re training, I’m training. Or at least abiding by the same sort of guidelines. That’s what team members do.”
Her fierce insistence was endearing, and he was thrilled that she saw them as a team the way he did. “All right, then. But if you are going to be part of my team, you need an official title.”
She leaned back. “I guess you don’t need a rehab therapist anymore, which is good. Especially since I’m not one.”
They both laughed. He nudged her. “How about manager? I am thinking I will fire my old one anyway. He hasn’t been much use to me in a long time, and the League assigned him to me, so what do I care?”
She tilted her head, a seriousness in her gaze. “Is this really going to be your last fight?”
“Yes. I am ready to be done.”
“What are you going to do with yourself, then?”
He stared at the flickering candle in the center of the table, hoping the flame would give him an answer. “I am not really sure.”
A few moments of silence passed before she spoke. “Why don’t you train other fighters? You’re so good at what you do.”
“But I am no longer a champion. I was defeated.”
“You’re about to rectify that, but it’s also kind of beside the point. You were a champion for years. One loss in how many fights?”
“Twenty-seven in eleven years.” It was a career he’d been very proud of. Until this last fight.
“Wow, that’s a lot of winning. No wonder my father made so much money off you.” She frowned. “Sorry. I really hate to keep mentioning him.”
“No, it is good. I need to know more about him. What he’s like. How he thinks. What pushes his buttons. Tell me everything.” That was the best way to defeat an opponent. Know more about them than they knew about you.
“Well, that’s sort of a detailed conversation. Maybe we should figure out what to eat first?”
“Good idea. Then you will tell me.”
“I will.” She opened her menu. “Everything looks great. Have you eaten here before? What are you getting? You know, I’m actually kind of starving.”
He laughed. “I have not eaten here before. I’ve never been in town longer than three weeks at a time. But I have wanted to. I am probably getting steak.”
She slanted her eyes at him. “You do like your red meat.”
He shrugged. “Dragon.”
“I think I’ll get the onion soup and the salad Niçoise.”
He shook his head. “You do like the green stuff.”
She closed her menu. “It does a body good.”
He couldn’t argue with that. “If that is why you look the way you do, don’t change a thing. In fact, I will plant a garden.”
She snorted with laughter. “A garden. Really. Are dragons known for their agricultural skills?”
“There is a first time for everything.”
The server returned then, and they ordered. Van asked for a bottle of sparkling water as well. It seemed like they should have something festive to drink.
With that out of the way, he settled back on the banquette. “All right. Your father. What do I need to know?”
The question flattened her smile, but it was information he had to have. “My father is Padraig Devlin. King of the leprechauns. It’s a title he enjoys lording over everyone, family included. Although, I think if he went back to Ireland and tried to assert himself, he’d be drummed out.”
“He is not really king, then?”
“No, he is. He’s just been in the United States so long that I don’t think they’d give him much respect. Especially since he left his home country behind. He put his younger brother in charge in his stead.”