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Paolo's eyebrow cocked up. "Your date, sir?"
I grinned. "My true mate."
There was a slight widening of Paolo's eyes before he schooled his facial features. "You've met your true mate, sir?"
"Yes, and I've claimed him already."
I just had to get him to claim me and that wasn't looking too good at this point.
"Would you like me to have the estate prepared for your mate's arrival?" Paolo asked. "I can call Benito and have everything in place immediately."
"No." I still hadn't convinced my mate to claim me. "I don't want anyone to know quite yet."
I didn't want to be the laughingstock of the paranormal world if my mate refused me.
Chapter Six
~ René ~
Watching my father reunite with Pierre went a long way toward cooling my anger, but it didn't put out the fire burning in my gut all the way. I was still plenty furious.
"Vitali is an ass."
"While that may be true, darling," my mother said as she gently stroked her fingers through Pierre's hair, "he is still our prince."
"He doesn't deserve to be."
I was sure of it.
My father grunted at my words, so I was pretty sure he agreed with me. He had to be raging inside. He hadn't let go of Pierre since we arrived back at the penthouse suite. I doubted he would for days.
"He didn't hurt me," Pierre insisted.
"Didn't he?" I asked. "He took you away from your family, he frightened you, he locked you in a room under guard, and he didn't feed you. How is that not hurting you?"
"I'm alive." Pierre stroked a hand down the side of Armando's face, smiling when his true mate pressed a kiss to the palm of his hand. "And I'm back with my loved ones. That's all I care about."
I understood his words, but I wasn't sure I agreed with him. PrinceAlessandro Vitali was an arrogant ass who thought the world revolved around him.
I didn't have a lot of patience for men like him. I'd been dealing with them my entire life. I wasn't about to deal with it in my mate.
"You going to be okay, Uncle?"
Safely wrapped in his true mate's arms, Pierre nodded. "I'll be fine."
"Then I'm going to head home." I grimaced as I glanced down at my suit. I hated wearing these things. "My skin is beginning to itch."
I could get hives or something.
I was stripping down just as soon as I got home. A shower might be in order as well, and then I wanted to put on my comfy clothes. This suit was not them.
As I walked to the elevator, I dreamed of my faded buttery-soft jeans and a well-worn T-shirt. No shoes. I hated shoes. Well, except my boots, and it was too hot to wear them. I needed bare feet, comfy clothes, no underwear, and a good stiff drink.
And I think I'd start a new painting, one where arrogant assholes went up in flames. That would help relieve my stress.
Maybe.
Not knowing what sort of shape Pierre would be in when I found him, I'd taken a taxi to go see the prince this morning instead of my bike. Which meant I had to take a taxi back to my place. My bike was still there.
