Page 91 of Stitched Up in You
A muscle ticks in Frank’s jaw as he glances at everyone else in the hall, sending them scurrying in the opposite direction and leaving us alone. I glance toward the ballroom, noticing Bruno and Nero standing at the end of the hall, keeping everyone away.
“It occurred to me it might be best for you to learn that little tidbit on your own, in a few years,” he answers, reaching out to caress the side of my face.
Shivers trill up my spine at the simple touch, and I scowl up at him. “A few years? Seriously?”
His lips lift into a half grin. “You’d rather me have told you days ago that we’re mated, and it’s forever? I’m sure you can see how well that’d have gone over.”
He could be right. I really don’t like feeling as if I don’t have a choice. “Hmm, mated to the world’s most eligible billionaire? Yeah, you’re right, not for me,” I say, smiling as he pulls me to him by my waist. I can sense him, warmth and affection flooding through me as orange specks of light dance around us. I’ve been seeing it for a while now I realize, I’ve just not wanted to put it into words.
I’ve read so many romance books with mating bonds and about how once the characters are mated they’re connected and can sense each other’s emotions, but never did I believe it was real. “So, what does mated mean exactly?” I ask, realizing I could have it all wrong.
“It means you get to pick the wedding date, now, or in a hundred years when you’re ready,” Frank says.
I frown as he smooths one hand down the side of my face.
“It means we can go to your friend’s castle,” he continues.
“Hey, he’s your friend too,” I mutter, as my stomach flutters with excitement from the contact.
“I don’t know how to woo a woman, because I’ve never wanted to before you. Anna showed me I was capable of feeling when I thought it wasn't possible for me to feel. I assumed she was my true mate, but now I know I was wrong. What I feel for you is so much more, and I’m completely stitched up in you. I’m known for being manipulative and even cruel sometimes to get what I want, but there’s no pressure, because we can take things as fast or slow as you’d like,” he says, his gaze boring into mine.
My heart thunders in my chest as tenderness and affection flow through to bond to me. “Fuck, Frank, you’re going to make me ruin my makeup,” I tell him, and jump into his arms to kiss him, ignoring the cameras popping off at the other end of the hallway, knowing Bruno and Nero won’t let them get close. My tongue tangles with his and I moan in the back of my throat as pleasure climbs.
I pull away and grin up into the face I’ve found deliciously handsome for years, noticing the orange light behind his gray gaze as butterflies erupt in my stomach with the amount of joy and happiness tearing through me. Reaching out with a hand, I try to touch the orange haze floating around us.
“Do you see this orange glowing stuff, or is it just me?” I ask, liking how easily he can hold me in his arms.
“That’s the mate bond magic getting stronger. It can take a while to solidify, but will grow the more time we spend together,” he murmurs, as if surprised I can see it too.
“Right. So, when do I get superpowers?” I ask.
He laughs a big belly laugh, and the camera's flash is near blinding.
“Let’s get going so we can have time to go get Edgar before leaving for Romania. We can discuss mate bonds and how long they can take on the way,” Frank says, and my heart skips a beat in my chest.
“Okay,” I breathe, melting into his side when he puts me back on my feet.
I glance behind us, noticing Bruno and Nero heading to us as we move toward the exit.
“I really hope you enjoyed your engagement party, because that’s the only one you’ll be getting. Whew, I can’t with these shoes,” I say, grabbing Frank’s wrist for balance as I stop and remove the heels pinching my feet.
I sigh, relaxing for the first time in hours when my bare feet touch the cold marble floor of the hallway, a grin pulling across my lips when Frank’s arms come around me, gathering me to him to swoop me up.
“I could get used to this,” I say, wiggling my toes as we leave.
Epilogue
FRANK N. STEIN
“Matehood looks good on you, Frank,” Doyle says, his arm flexing behind him as he launches the football at me from across a grassy knoll near the castle.
He looks the most carefree I’ve seen him, wearing a black t-shirt and jeans, making it almost seem like a casual afternoon gathering, if only he weren’t trying to kill me via football.
It barrels into my chest, and I grunt, withholding a wheeze from the force he threw it. The bastard. Vlad, he’ll wait till the most opportune moment to get his revenge, even if it takes centuries. He prefers it that way. Doyle, on the other hand, never did have any patience and will take every cheap shot he can.
We arrived in Romania this morning, and I assumed Bernadette would pass out from exhaustion as she didn’t sleep on the plane ride here. But instead of napping, she insists she stay awake to ‘reset her biological clock’ with the new time change and jetlag. Hence why we’re all outdoors trying to fill the time with the sun overhead.
I toss the ball back, not bothering to overdo it as he catches it midair easily. “Why do you have so many of these?” I ask him,glancing at the many footballs dotting the ground, some of them breaking apart at the seams.
