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Her voice steadily declined to a dull murmur, but Franco had heard everything. He shook his head passionately with a clear scowl adorning his handsome face.
“No, no, Violet. Don’t start thinking that way. If anything, it is a blessing that Gerri set us up now. If it had just been me in the woods, or hell, even now when I was chasing the guy, I would have been doomed.”
Her face blushed hot, and she mentally reprimanded herself for how inappropriate it was for her to relish such a compliment. The man could have died in a car crash that day. He could have been killed if the wolves had come for him when he was alone. But still, the thrill of his attention and acknowledgment of her abilities were bewitching, filling her with a confidence that nearly made her body float.
“You really think so?” she asked in a low voice, casting her eyes up at him with hooded lids.
Franco leaned forward on the table, taking her free hand into his. The look he’d had in the gift shop, that distant sunken look where he had been so far away from her, had been replaced by a dreamy smitten boy who would do anything for his beloved.
Her heart soared, and her belly filled with stardust.
“I know so, Violet. You are an awesome fighter, powerful, not to be fucked with.”
They both laughed, and the ease of their interactions had returned. Violet thought it was a bit absurd to feel so soothed by him when something so potentially life-threatening was happening around them.
But she was serene again, in that place where her heart glowed like a lantern in a dark, solemn evening dusk. There was no way she was going to shy away from that.
Violet flipped her hand over his while they giggled like school kids. She changed the mood slightly, wanting to show him genuine concern for the career he had fought so hard for.
“What about the car?” she asked, swallowing some laughter. “I’m worried that someone else might get to it the way they did today. For the rest of the race, I mean.”
“I am going to get the team to sleep with the car tonight,” he said, eyes glittering with a smirk. “Cornel will take care of that. No one is going to sabotage a thing.”
Franco had a way of reassuring her, so she nodded in response, letting the remainder of her worries cool. It was a magical ability, one that had everything to do with the powerful sensation of lust and intrigue he had over her.
Nevertheless, there was no point in beating it into the ground. He seemed calm, and she could admit that she was impatient to spend some more one-on-one time with him.
He was a fucking dreamboat of a man.
They finished off their coffees and returned to the garage, where his team seemed to be scrabbling. Franco was back in good spirits, so he spoke to everyone, then took Cornel, Samantha, and Felix off to the side. They were the most seasoned members of his team and the ones he trusted intimately.
“I need to ask a favor of you,” he proposed.
The rest of the team was in an opposing garage where Franco’s damaged car was receiving a post-mortem. It had been determined that the tires had been tampered with, making them far more sensitive to blistering than their brand was known to be.
Franco remained unaffected by the news, asking his closest teammates to put the car in an area that was locked and would be secured only by them. Felix offered to sleep in a cot nearby. Franco joked that he was itching for a raise.
Violet was glad to see that emotions were running normally. However, she still felt the inclination to figure out what was going on, mostly to keep her fated mate from harm.
But his positivity was electric and infectious, so she went along with it, standing by his side while he spoke with the mechanics who would have the car ready for the next race.
They returned to the hotel together at midday, the track still howling with qualifying races and fans pouring in and out of the venue. Violet felt exhausted despite having been sitting and watching for the majority of the morning. The emotional turmoil of watching Franco’s car combust before her eyes drained her instantly.
He was calm, holding her hand as they hurried through the lobby to avoid any press and serial gawkers. They got in the elevator, the door dinging closed, and they both let out a sigh of relief.
Franco’s phone chimed as he stroked her hand with his thumb, and he slid it out of his pocket. Looking at it, he blew his lips out, a slight air of annoyance infiltrating his ease.
“What is it?” she asked.
“I forgot that there’s another event tonight,” he said, groaning. “It’s more of a meet and greet rather than another rambunctious affair.”
The door of the elevator parted on the floor where her hotel room was. They stood there for a moment, then Violet pressed the button to Franco’s floor, the number glowing an aquamarine.
“Are you inviting me to attend?” she asked, her voice lowering into that bedroom husk.
He chuckled, tracing his hand up hers to her elbow, shoulder, and neck. Chills ran up Violet’s spine, eliciting a groan that came from the very depths of her soul.
“Something like that,” he whispered.
