“Do you really mean to tell me that I must bond with that woman?” He sighed and collapsed onto the couch next to her. She put a comforting hand on his knee.
“Fiona? And yes, I am telling you that you'd better do the right thing and cement the bond. There are many reasons, from the practical to the romantic.”
“Name one,” Seb growled.
“You're having a hard time running the National Coven on your own. I've seen it, just in the work I've been doing to start generating some positive publicity for the witch community. You know you need more hands to do some of the work.”
“I'm not going to let that woman do anything to do with my coven!”
“Her name is Fiona. And despite your hardheadedness, if you won't hand over some of your work to a partner, you could at least use a hostess. Skylar and I have been sharing the responsibilities since we joined the family, but you need someone full-time. You were the one who formed a National Coven to lead all the others.”
“It was unanimous, and needed.”
“Yes, it was. But by placing yourself at our Coven at the helm, you created a need for a more public image.”
“I know, but I can handle it.”
“Why won't you listen to me? You might even find that you'd like her if you'd let her in. And I don't really think you have a choice.”
“I always have a choice!” Seb calmed himself with an effort. “I'm sorry, Melanie. I shouldn't be so emotional, and I really shouldn't take it out on you.”
“I am just trying to help.”
“I know you are. I think what irritates me worst is that you're probably right.” Seb shook his head. “I've given other people the same lecture you're giving me, and I expected them to do the right thing and cement their bond. Now I'm trying to be a hypocrite.”
“Yes, you are. So, what are you going to do about it?”
“I guess I'm going to have to go call that woman and figure out an amicable solution to the problem.”
“You'd better start calling her by her name. Cementing the bond is marrying her in the magical community, as you've always insisted, and I don't know anyone who refers to their wife constantly as 'that woman.'”
“Don't remind me.”
“Do you still have the number?”
“Yes, I do. I suppose some part of me already knew all of the things you were just telling me.”
“Then stop taking to me. Call her.”
“Tomorrow.”
“Tonight.”
Seb had moved into his father's apartment suite after his death, and had made it his own. The Coven House had been built and added onto so many times that there was no cohesive structure to the house anymore. There was enough room to house about twenty witches who worked for the Coven with some to spare, so he hadn't ever put anyone close to him. But the tranquility he used to find in his solitude just seemed lonely today. Maybe Melanie was more right than she thought.
Seb held his phone in his hand and just considered it for at least five minutes. But in the end, pragmatism won out and he dialed the number.
Whether he liked it or not, his heart beat faster when she answered.
“Fiona Shields.”
“It's Seb. I'm inclined to think that you're right and that we should have another talk, preferably without me saying anything rude or ugly.”
“I think that's a good idea. I wasn't precisely on my best behavior either.”
“Tomorrow?” Seb asked, his mind already working on what he would do when they met. He'd take her for a nice dinner, and they'd have a nice civilized conversation in which they planned how to move into the future. He'd be rational and thoughtful, and things would move forward logically rather than emotionally.
“No, that won't do. If we wait until tomorrow, I'll just be up all night thinking about this. I have important things to do tomorrow. I think we need to do this tonight. We at least need to make a plan to proceed from here whether we act on it just yet or not.”
“I suppose you're right. What did you have planned?”
“I'm hungry. Would you like to meet for dinner?”
“Yes, that will work. Would you like to come by the Coven House and we'll eat here?”
“I don't think so. I'd rather meet on neutral turf. Park at the coffee house; we'll walk somewhere.”
“Alright. Thirty minutes?”
“Sure.” Seb hung up. So that was that.
15
CHAPTER TWO
Fiona stared into the recesses of her closet again. It was the second time in one day she'd lamented her poor choices of outfit. She could tell she aroused him with the corset, but maybe that was too much. His emotions seemed close to the surface, and perhaps a sexual awareness wasn't too far from the anger he showed earlier. She should go for classy.
She saw her reflection in the mirror. Fiona would never look classy, or beautiful, or anything but peculiar because of that horrible hair and eyes. She twisted her hair around her fingers. It was a good warning, sure, but did it have to be quite so brightly white?
So, classy would have to be an attempt rather than a conclusion. Fiona stepped into a floor-length crimson dress with a black floral pattern. There was a slight nip in the air, so she drew a black cloak around her shoulders. She rarely put on makeup, but tonight was special, so she went ahead and did it.
17
THE DUTIFUL WITCH
In her mind, there was only one option: she had to go through with the bond. Whether they turned it into something romantic or not didn't matter. Having magic almost created a contract that if you found your bond-mate, you would cement that bond. It was partially even for the future of witchcraft in general.
Fiona gave the mirror a last look. That's as good as it was going to get. She didn't have to be beautiful to be magically compatible. Then she was out the door.
Seb had gotten there before her, and he stood outside, still as a statue. He was a very attractive man, and Fiona wanted to rub her hands all over him before tasting him... She had to keep her wits about her, though, when dealing with this man. He was dangerous in more ways than one.
She cleared her throat behind him, and he swiveled to face her. He gave her a disarming smile, and it made her want to give him anything and everything he wanted. Imagine kissing those lips, igniting them to do all kinds of delightful things. She felt her nipples harden underneath her bodice despite her efforts to stifle her attraction.
“Good to see you,” he said.
“And you.”
“Did you have a restaurant in mind?”
“Not necessarily. I know there's a good Italian place down this way, but I'm open to suggestions.”
“Italian sounds fine.”
“This way, then.”
She strode off, not really looking to see if he was following. But he was, of course. She could feel his presence, even without looking for his aura. The restaurant was close, and they sat down without further conversation. The hostess gave them their menus, but Seb's eyes stayed on her, rather unnerving her.
“Would you like to order for me?” He asked, but his mouth held a slight grin.
“How about I make a strong suggestion?”
“I could deal with that. What is your strong suggestion?”
“The veal piccata is delightful. I'll be getting the shrimp scampi, though, which I could also highly recommend.” Fiona locked eyes with his and switched to a more serious tone. “I'm glad you reconsidered talking to me.”
“I think I am too.”
“Does it help if I say that I've been looking for my bond-mate for a long time but didn't expect to find anyone like you?”
“I'm not sure. Is that a compliment or a criticism?”
“A little of both, I would think. Did you have any kind of expectations?”
“I suppose you could say that. I thought she'd, or rather, you'd be more soft-spoken, almost diminutive. I think I saw a woman who would support from the background. I can tell you're more of a front-lines kind of
woman.”
“You've got that right. But you shouldn't worry too much. I'm not going to demand the position as Duchess. If you give it to me one day, I'll do my best to fulfill the role. But I will only be Duchess if and when you've asked me to be.”
He seemed stunned. “You...? What?” The waiter arrived, and Seb ordered the veal piccata, just as she hoped he would. “What do you mean?”
“I have looked for a bond-mate, someone whose magic will call to mine. I am not a power grabber, and I'm not here to be a celebrity or something like that. I don't want you to think that of me. I will let you write my position in your life, as I will hope that you will let me determine your place in my life. This is a magical marriage, and we both know that we're forming an alliance of sorts and not a fairy tale romance. I really am not marrying you for the title, and I want to make sure we're both clear on that.”
“I appreciate that. Thank you. I haven't thought about a bond for years, and I haven't really given much thought to where she might fit into what I've inherited and what I've built.”
“Take your time. However, I think we do need to make the bond,” Fiona reasoned, trying to seem low-pressure as she played with her napkin. “The bond will make both of our magics stronger. It will show that we support magical bonds and all that they entail. I personally can't see a pressing reason why we should wait when we know it's inevitable. We can figure out the relationship details after the fact.”
“You make this sound rather like a business transaction.”
“In a way it is, isn't it?” She asked, still trying to suppress her emotions.
He looked like he was about to get angry, but then just looked tired. “You're right. It would be easier to navigate our way into a relationship if we already have the bond in place.” Their food arrived, and conversation stalled for a few minutes. “This is good.”
“I told you.”
“So I suppose we should make the bond tonight and file the requisite marriage paperwork with the state tomorrow,” he said, scrubbing his hands through his hair. It was sexy, and Fiona wanted to replace his hands with hers to feel just how soft his hair really was.
“That sounds like a plan. If you would prefer to do it at my apartment rather than bring me to the Coven House as of yet, we can do that too.”
“That might indeed be easier. They'll know when they see me next...”
“But there's no reason to involve them in our private business before it becomes public business.”
“Exactly.” When she finished eating, Fiona grabbed her purse to head to the restroom. But rather than go straight there, she stopped their waiter and gave him her credit card. “I'm on a date, and I don't want him to pay. Please charge both the meals to this.” The waiter looked dubious, but he took the card anyway. When she got back, all there was to do was sign the receipt and give a generous tip.
“You paid?” Seb asked, incredulous.
“I chose the place. And I'm not used to accepting charity. I pay my own way.”
“You paid my way, too,” he observed.
“Like I said, I chose.”
“You chose, you ordered, and you paid. For both of us.”
“Sounds about right to me.”
He shook his head and laughed, something that she could tell he didn't do often. “So where's your apartment? Or should I follow your car?”
“I walked.”
“It's hot and humid out there for a May evening. Come with me in the car and give me directions.” She paused. There was no reason she shouldn't do it, but it felt like giving up a measure of independence. “It's just a car ride,” he reminded her, “and that's nothing compared to what we'll be doing in the next few days.”
“You're right.” She nodded and followed him towards his car. She should have expected a fancy car, and she was right. The responsible Duke drove a black Mustang, and it had all the hallmarks of being custom-tuned.
He saw her pause and gave her a reassuring smile. “I'm a good driver.”
“I hope so.” She slid into the leather seat, and he started the car's engine's purr.
It nearly took longer to drive back to her apartment than it took to walk there due to evening traffic and a warren of one-way streets. Fiona was on edge the whole way, knowing what was waiting for her when they got back. She didn't regret or question her decision to move forward, but that didn't calm her nerves. Seb grabbed her hand as she got out of the car. “Which one is yours?”
“1807.”
“That's pretty high up there.”
“It's got a great view.”
Her heart was pattering hard enough she was sure he could hear it all the way up to the eighteenth floor. But he didn't press the advantage or do anything more than hold her hand until she unlocked the door and turned on the lights.
“It's nice,” he said, looking around. Fiona tried to see it the way he did. It was messier than usual, but its colorful decorations stood out from the white walls giving it an air of cheerfulness. “Comfortable.”
“That it is.” She blushed, and blurted out her problem: “I haven't had a lover in quite a while.”
He looked surprised, then a slow smile spread across his face. “Neither have I. We'll have to remember how together. And I'll figure out later why a beautiful woman like you hasn't had a troupe of men dancing attendance on her.”
She was afraid of that, so she laughed, which was apparently precisely what he was looking for. Seb swept in and planted a quick kiss on her lips. The taste of him flared through her senses, and she grabbed the back of his head to pull him forward and capture his lips for a much longer kiss. It didn't take long to remind her body what to do from there, and she started pulling on his shirt to free it from his waistband. He let her take it and his undershirt up and over his head. But rather than return to his mouth, she planted fiery hot kisses across his bare torso. She flicked her tongue on the tip of his nipple and enjoyed his groan.
She went for his pants, but he stopped her. “You too.” She waved off his help and tried to look alluring as she shimmied out of the dress. By the tent in his pants, she succeeded. He pushed her hands aside when she would have covered her body. “Now it's my turn,” he murmured as he pushed her to lay down on the couch and sucked her nipple into his mouth. She exclaimed at the pleasure, which just seemed to push him on. “I want you, Fiona. I want you bad.”
“No turning back from here.”
“No turning back.” Unspoken was the knowledge that having unprotected sex would be the thing that sealed their bond, making them irrevocably connected through their magic. “Do you want this?” He would have stopped, she knew, even as she could tell that he wanted to go forward.
“I want this. I want you.”
That was all he needed, and he shucked his pants faster than she could see. He kissed her mouth again, driving his tongue into her mouth just as he pressed into her. They moaned together.
Fiona couldn't remember sex this good, and it wasn't because she hadn't had a lover in a long time. Seb was enthusiastic, and almost seemed to anticipate her desires and pleasures. It wasn't long before she felt her culmination coming. When it hit, it hit hard. She was sure that her neighbors must have heard her or heard Seb when he finished moments later.
“That was incredible,” Fiona gasped for air.
“That's for sure. We didn't even make it to the bedroom,” Seb chuckled.
But then Fiona felt the bond start to take hold in her. Her back arched, and she felt an electric tingle run up and down her arms and legs.
“Are you alright?” Seb asked, clearly concerned.
“I'll be fine. It's expected, I think.” Another spasm of pain shot through her.
“You need to get some rest.” He picked her up and carried her into the bedroom, laying her gently on the bed then arranging the blanket over her.
“Stay with me?” She asked, pulling the covers to her chin. Fiona thought he looked torn, but he came to a conclusion and nodded resolutely. Seb joined h
er under the covers and brought her back to spoon against him.
“Hey now, it's going to be alright. I've heard from both of my sister-in-laws that transitioning to the bond is harder for the woman. Skylar slept it off and was fine in the morning. Melanie slept it off and had a hang-over, but that's more because she had gotten really drunk.” Fiona laughed, and her pain eased a little. He seemed to feel it, and he kept talking. “They'll both be big fans of yours. I don't think Skylar's met anyone she didn't like, and Melanie already speaks very highly of you.”
“That's good. You seem fond to your sister-in-laws.”
“I am. They're both good people, and they love my brothers a lot.”
“Yeah. I can tell how much Melanie loves Justin. She's so excited about her twins, too.”
“We all are. They girls are the first members of a new generation of Wards. To be honest, those kids will be at risk of being over-spoiled.”
Fiona laughed. “There's worse things to be.”
“That's true. Now sleep, and we'll see how you feel in the morning.” He traced a lazy figure eight on her shoulder, and she fell asleep quickly.
Seb waited until Fiona was clearly asleep before he crawled out from the bed. It was late, but he knew he needed to call Justin.
“You're lucky you didn't wake Melanie,” Justin answered grumpily. Seb knew his brother was a light sleeper and that Melanie would be out cold with the stress of two new babies. It was a good gamble that Justin would answer without waking his wife.
“Sorry about that.”
“You seal the deal?”
“Yeah.”
“Good. You spending the night there?”
“Yeah. We'll likely be doing the paperwork with the state tomorrow morning.”
“I'll take care of things here.”
“Give me a call if there are any problems.”
“Sure. Now get some rest.”
“I will.”
“Congrats.”
“Thanks.” The unspoken, I think, stuck in Seb's mouth.
Seb returned to Fiona in bed and joined her in slumber.
The Dutiful Witch (The Ward Witches) Page 2