“Well, I was taught never to show up emptyhanded.”
I rubbed his shoulder, certain he’d been taught that not by his mother but by one of her many men, who’d taken a hand in his upbringing.
“Thank you, Mark.” Mother kissed his cheek, and I turned away to hide my grin at his blush.
Gregor seemed a little flustered when he handed her a neatly wrapped box. She gave him a soft smile and undid the paper. “Oh, dear one, this is beautiful!”
Mother held up a blue silk pashmina the exact same shade as her eyes. Then she draped it around her shoulders, leaving one end to trail almost to her knees. Miss Priss hopped off the loveseat and came to investigate. She behaved herself and kept her claws sheathed around it. After brushing her face against the soft silk, she turned away and pounced on a piec
