Not My Fairytale

Chapter 48

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A Confession

    Angelo was waiting for me in my foyer when I returned, lounging before the fire, the image of calm indifference if not for the visible tension in his shoulders and the bandage still adorning his neck. When his eyes found mine, he sat up straight in his seat, expression unreadable.

    I had spent much of my day praying for the opportunity to speak with Angelo again. Standing in front of him, the words seemed to die on my tongue as they had before, all that had transpired since we'd last been alone hung heavy in the air between us. I studied him from the doorway, then approached slowly, not stopping until I stood toe-to-toe with him where he still sat on the settee. His gaze never left mine, even when he reached out to take hold of my hand. Then he tugged hard on it, sending me me toppling onto his lap.

I sucked in a startled gasp just for it to freeze in my lungs as he lowered his head to rest his brow against my collar bone. He remained there, his hair falling forward to tickle my neck. After a few moments had passed, I lifted a tentative hand to run my fingers through the soft, golden curls, the movement comforting myself as much as him. Little by little, the awkward tension that had been hovering in the room like fog dissipated, and I relaxed into his body, relishing the sturdy feel of it against mine.

    It was a long while before Angelo spoke, his voice still hoarse, but much better than it had been earlier, "For how many hours I've been told I was unconscious, I have no business still being so tired." When he raised his head, there was a whisper of a smile on his lips, his hand lifted to tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear, letting the tips of his fingers trail down my cheek in a slow caress.

    "Considering the night you had, I think it can be forgiven." It was the wrong thing to say. His smile faltered at the reminder, but his fingertips continued their steady movement. I sighed, "Do you think it might help you to talk about it?"

    He shook his head, "I've done more than enough talking about it for one day. I'd rather focus on anything else." As if to emphasize his point, he leaned in to press a gentle kiss to the spot his fingers had ended their trailing, right at the meeting of my jaw and neck. My heart fluttered in my chest and a cocky grin plastered to his face as he pulled away.

    Without thinking, I blurted the first thing that came to mind that would wipe the smirk from his lips, "So, you love me?"

    He ran a hand down his face, letting out a chuckle from behind it's cover, "I did say that, didn't I?" He peered down at me, "It wasn't quite the romantic setting I might have planned for such a confession. I think I'd have preferred a smaller audience, perhaps a bit less blood."

    I couldn't keep the smile from my lips, "Did you mean it?"

    He took gentle hold of my chin, brows furrowing as he searched my gaze. "Are you truly unsure of the answer?" Angelo clucked his tongue in disappointment, fingers still gripping my chin– demanding my attention– as his expression grew serious. "I remember that day in the shop, the first time I ever saw you. You were glaring up at me from a puddle of perfume, the stench unbearable, looking as if you might tear my head from my shoulders, and yet my only thought was of how you were the most breathtaking woman I had ever laid eyes on. It was all I could do to keep from dropping to my knees right there to beg your forgiveness– anything that might turn that frown to a smile. The feelings terrified me, though I did my best to hide it, and I escaped as fast as I could. I ran all the way back to the hideout and stayed there the rest of the night.

"Then, days later I discovered a willow tree beside a lake and there you were again, the most beautiful woman in the world, only this time I learned that you were my mate– and that you wanted nothing to do with me. I returned to the willow nearly every day after that, it had become a special place, sacred. It was where you changed my life forever. I wanted to give you space, but I couldn't keep away, even when I tried. Everywhere I turned, there you were, in the city, The Den, as if fate itself was trying to guide us back to our path. You asked if I love you, and my answer is of course. Loving you was always inevitable, it was fated. Your determination, your wit, your strength, I was made to love it all– it's woven into my DNA." The smoldering look in his eyes warmed my blood and set butterflies fluttering in my belly. "I love you Giuliana, I plan to spend the rest of my life showing you just how much."

Unable to hold back any longer, I leaned in to crush my lips against his. The hand on my cheek moved to tangle into my hair as he deepened the kiss. All too soon, he pulled away but didn't stray far. His brow came to rest on mine. My head felt as if I were floating. "I love you too," I murmured. His smile stole my breath. "Very much."

    He pressed his lips to mine again, just as tantalizingly brief. "I heard that you sat at my bedside all night. They said a small army of guards had to tear you from my room by force when you were summoned by the King."

    I laughed, dropping my head to his shoulder, "It was only eight."

    He laughed as well, nearly hiding the small wince it brought on, "Eight?" His arms wrapped around my waist to pull me tighter to his chest. "If it took eight men to subdue you, then our enemies had better be shaking in their boots."

    I buried my face in the fabric of his shirt, "Is their king really as bad as you said?"

    For a moment, he was silent. When he chose to speak, it wasn't an answer to my question, "We'll figure out a way to defeat him, I know we will. We have to."

    I only nodded, unsure of how else to respond, but he didn't mind, allowing a quiet calm to settle over us. His hands ran in lazy trails along the ridge of my spine, easing all of the tension from my muscles. The fire crackling in the hearth was the only sound in the room save for our steady breaths and his heart beating beneath my ear. When he broke the quiet of the room, his voice was gentle, "What are you thinking about?"

    My cheeks reddened. There were so many reasons to worry, so much that should have been on the forefront of my mind, but I was stuck on something rather trivial in comparison. "The Gift."

    "Oh?" He asked, pulling back so he could look at me.

    I kept my gaze glued to his chest to avoid further embarrassment. "It's just that my parents' bond completed when they confessed their love for one another."

    He shrugged, "Every pair is different. What matters is that we love each other, the rest will come with time."

    I nodded, a short, noncommittal gesture, pursing my lips. He sighed, then a wicked glint lit up his eyes. "You know," he said, a mischievous smile taking shape on his mouth, "if you're really so worried about it, I can think of a few more ways to trigger The Gift." Faster than I could respond, Angelo scooped me up in his arms and began walking toward my bedroom.

    An airy giggle slipped from my lips as I let him carry me across the foyer.

    He closed the door behind us with a foot, tossing me onto the bed, then lowering himself to hover over me. Desire flooded through me, more intense than anything I had ever felt before. I tugged on his shirt, attempting to pull it from his body, but he caught my hands in his, pinning them to the mattress above my head. I leaned up to catch his mouth against mine. At the last second, he ducked from my reach, a smirk playing at his lips. "Ange–" My words broke off in a breathy gasp as his mouth began a slow, tormenting path down my neck.

    He tutted in mock disapproval. "Now, now, love," The deep murmur of his voice sent bolts straight through me. "I do believe I promised once that I would make you beg for it."

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Continue on for the final chapter of NMF