#Chapter 455- Ella Gets a Note
Ella
I snatch the note out of my mate’s hand, muttering “he’s not my prince,” but no one really acknowledges the words as I tear the envelope open and eagerly read the short letter inside. When I see what it says, my eyebrows arch almost to my hairline.
“What is it?” Cora asks, leaning eagerly forward.
“He wants to…go to dinner,” I say, frowning a little.
“Dinner,” Sinclair says, frowning and sliding his hands into his pockets. ”
Why on earth would he want that? We have three more dinners with the Atalaxians scheduled over the next few nights, he could go to any one of those
“No, Dominic,” I say softly, looking up at him. “The note is only addressed to me.”
My mate goes still as my words, and their implications, sink in. And then his face goes dark.
“Okay!” Roger says in too-cheerful tones, wrapping his hands around Cora’s arms as he stands up, dragging her with him. “Time for us to go! It’s been a pleasure, Dom – we’ll see you later – ”
“What?” Cora gasps, fumbling to her feet and looking between Roger and me. “No, I want to stay!”
“Nope!” he says, moving her hastily for the door. “We’re out of here!”
“Roger, I’m in pajamas – ”
“If you don’t kill anyone, Cora, no one will care what you’re wearing -”
My eyes follow my protesting sister as Roger pulls her from the room, shutting the door behind them. And then my eyes snap up to my mate who glowers silently down at me, the only sounds in the room our little baby happily cooing next to us.
“You know I didn’t do this, Dominic,” I say, my voice stern as I slowly start to shake my head at him.
“I didn’t say you did, Ella,” he snaps, his voice a low snarl. But he’s pissed – I can tell by the stiffness of his shoulders, the tense set of every single one of his muscles.
I move slowly, not wanting to set him off. I mean, I’m not scared, not at all I didn’t do anything wrong to begin with, and he’d never hurt me. But still, I don’t want him to lose his temper, not when he’s clearly working so hard to contain it.
So, quite calmly, I reach for the baby and gather him close to my chest before standing up and moving to my mate’s side.
“What do you want me to do?” I ask, my voice perfectly calm. Because…
I mean, honestly? Even if I only ever admit it to myself? I want to go. I’m not only eager to make a connection with the only Atalaxian who has even hinted that he might want to build bridges between our nations, but even more than that?
There is some kind of connection between Calvin and I and I’m dying to know what it is. I want very much to go to this dinner and find out more.
But Sinclair – he’s my mate. And he is about ready to tear this man apart for asking me to dinner – especially because Sinclair thinks that he’s into me or whatever.
As Sinclair stares down into my face, I can tell all of these thoughts are rushing through his mind as well. But then he looses his breath and wraps an arm around my waist, pulling me close to him as he softly raises a hand to my cheek. “What do you want to do?”
But I shake my head, not letting him get out of it that easily. “I am your Queen, Dominic,” I say quietly. “I am done taking things into my own hands for now. If you want me to go, and to see what I can do to make a connection with Atalaxia, or if I can learn anything new from him, I’ll do it. But if you want me to stay?” I shrug. “I’ll stay.”
He growls a little, his arm tightening, and even though I know he’s upset I can’t help but smile a little. I like it when he’s possessive like this. Warmth coils within me, heating me from the inside out.
Sensing that heat, Sinclair moves his thumb to my mouth, tracing the line of my lower lip with the edge of his finger.
“Let me think on it,” he murmurs.
“What’s there to think about?” I ask softly, genuinely curious.
“The pros and cons,” he answers, taking a deep sniff of my scent, apparently relishing it, “of ripping him to shreds for daring to ask you out on a date.”
I burst out laughing here, earning a little smile from my mate. “Dominic,” I say, shaking my head at him, “it’s not a date -”
“Then why didn’t he invite me?”
“Because every time you talk to him you get all growly!” I say, laughing. ” I’m nice to him, which is beneficial for international relations!”
“Well,” Sinclair murmurs, snapping his teeth at me a little, “maybe you should be a little less nice to him.”
I shake my head up at him, stepping closer to that my body lines as flush as it can against his with the baby in my arms. “First you tell me that you’d prefer I didn’t kill the enemies, now you’re telling me not to be nice? Honestly, Dominic, mixed messages over here – ”
“How about,” he murmurs, moving his hand from my face and slipping it to my shoulder and then down my back, “you just stay in bed, all the time? Then no foreign princes will ever hit on you, and I’ll get a great deal more peace
I laugh again, raising myself onto my tiptoes and tilting my chin up, silently begging for a kiss and sending a little pulse of love and desire down our bond. Sinclair growls in response and lowers his mouth to mine, kissing me roughly, claiming me as his. I open my mouth to him, eagerly giving into it, letting him know that I’m his-his-his-
The kiss deepens and I’m a little frantic suddenly, wondering how to simultaneously get the baby to his crib while continuing to kiss my mate, because no part of me wants to break away any time soon
But Sinclair groans, and lifts his face from mine, even though I’m still pressed tight to him.
“I can’t,” he sighs, panting a little as he looks down at me.
“What!?” I say, aghast.
He shakes his head, glancing over at a clock. “I’m already late, Ella – we’ve got more negotiations with the Atalaxians, and I have to find Roger -” he rolls his eyes and glances towards the door, “who the hell knows where he went…”
I pout up at my mate, disappointed. ” Fine,” I say, my voice a little mean. ” But you owe me, all right?”
Sinclair laughs, taking my chin possessively between his fingers and shaking his head at me. “Tonight, trouble. I’ll make it up to you tenfold.”
I sigh but step away, disappointed but knowing that it’s necessary to be patient, even though patience has never been one of my strong suits. I glance over at the bed, where the invitation sits discarded.
Sinclair follows my gaze and we’re both silent for a moment, looking at it.
“Do you want me to reply to that?” I ask quietly.
“No,” he responds, and I look up to see him shaking his head. Then he leans forward and kisses me again, softly, just for a moment. “Let that bastard wait. I’ll be seeing him this afternoon anyway – maybe I’ll get a better idea of what he wants. Are you all right with that?”
“I am if you are,” I say, meaning every word.
And my mate kisses me again, and then drops a kiss to our baby’s head before murmuring his goodbyes and heading again out of the room, off to his King’s business.
I sigh more deeply this time, looking down at my happy baby. “Just me and you, little meatball,” I murmur, smiling at him. Rafe squeals a little in happiness, waving his fists at me, and I laugh.
“You’re right,” I say, turning back to the bed to flop back down and spend some time with my little guy, “it’s not so bad, is it?”
But even as I play with Rafe, my eyes drift over to the discarded invitation on the bed.
And deep down? I hope that whatever Calvin and Sinclair say to each other today means that I get to say yes to that.
Because something at the center of me is urging me to go and speak to this Prince alone, to hear what it is he has to say.
