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"Tell him that you're taken."
Frankie chuckled. "He knows. You made quite the statement this morning at breakfast when you kissed my cheek in front of everyone. Was it intentional?"
"No. I just felt like kissing you, but now I'm glad I did. For the duration of this cruise, you are mine, and I want everyone to know that."
Frankie
Frankie stood before the mirror and examined the intricate coif Mia had arranged. "This is amazing. And to think that you did it by following YouTube instructions."
Behind her, Mia grinned. "Necessity is the mother of invention. As fabulous as this cruise is, there is no hair salon or spa. Perhaps I should drop a note about it in the suggestion box."
Frankie didn't know if there was a suggestion box or if Mia was talking hypothetically. "Who is doing the bride's hair?"
"Her sisters, I guess. They were holed up in her cabin the entire afternoon." Mia brushed a hand over her short hairdo. "I'm so glad you and Margo convinced me to cut my hair. I don't need to do anything to make it look great."
"True." Frankie turned to her friend. "But you still need to get dressed."
She'd done Mia's makeup and had offered to do something with her hair, but Mia was happy with it the way it was.
"Are you okay by yourself here?" Mia asked.
"I'm ready." Frankie turned in a circle. "Cinderella is awaiting her prince." Dagor was coming to her cabin and would escort her to the wedding.
Mia mock-frowned at her. "Don't let him convince you to have a quickie before the wedding. I will never forgive you if you ruin this updo."
"Yes, ma'am," Frankie saluted.
"You've been warned." Mia pointed a finger at her before turning her chair around. "See you at the wedding, Cindy, and please, don't lose your glass slipper."
"Not a chance."
The prince might not come looking for her with the glass slipper in hand. Besides, her lilac chunky heels were strapped to her ankles, and they were not coming off unless she unstrapped them.
They matched the lilac chiffon evening dress she'd gotten from one of her cousins. It had a deep V-neckline that showcased her collarbone, and just the very tops of her breasts, and the dainty straps allowed her shoulders to be on display. The bodice was adorned with intricate embroidery that attracted the light, adding a hint of shimmer to the subdued color. From the cinched waist, the chiffon cascaded in gentle layers, creating a floor-length skirt that swayed with every move she made.
If not for the five-inch platform heels, the dress would have been too long, but with the heels, it just barely cleared the floor.
"Not bad, Frankie," she told her reflection. "You clean up nicely."
When her phone rang, she rushed to retrieve it from the nightstand and almost tripped but managed to reach it without incident.
Expecting it to be Dagor, she was surprised to see Margo's face on the display.
When she accepted the call, there was a slight delay, reminding her of the security rerouting Mia had warned her about.
"Hi, Margo." She sat on the bed and cradled the phone to her ear. "How are you surviving Cabo?"
"Barely. I can't wait for your ship to get here so I can get out of this place. Not that there is anything wrong with Cabo, it's a lovely vacation spot. It's the company that I can't stand."
"You'd better learn to. Lynda is going to be your sister-in-law."
"I know. I can tolerate her in small doses. But let's talk about you. What happened with that guy you were planning on hooking up with?"
Frankie smiled. "He's picking me up to escort me to the wedding."
"That's not the answer I wanted. Details, Frankie. I want them now."
Even if there was no surveillance, Frankie wouldn't have been able to tell Margo anything about Dagor being a god, or that he had fangs, or that he had bitten her, or about the venom trip. Toven had made sure of that with his compulsion.
