Runaway Vampire (Argeneau, #23)

“Oh,” Mary said slowly. “So Dante was still interested in—”

“Yes, he and Tomasso were both still scarfing down everything and anything, and banging every female from—” He paused abruptly when Russell stuck a foot out to nudge him. Grimacing, he said instead, “He was still active on the dating scene.”

“Ah,” Mary said with amusement. She wasn’t surprised that Dante had been “active on the dating scene.” Between his looks and his size, she was sure women would have been throwing themselves at him left, right, and center.

“But don’t worry, Mary,” Francis said now, patting her hand. “Now that he’s found you, he will want only you.”

She tilted her head curiously. “Why?”

“Why?” Francis asked blankly. “Because you are his life mate, honey.” Frowning, he asked, “Did he not explain about life mates to you?”

“He said something about a life mate being the one person an immortal couldn’t read or control and that they could live happily with or something,” she said slowly, trying to recall his exact words.

“Oh, dear,” Francis muttered and rolled his eyes. “He is a good-looking brute, but not big on talking, that one.”

Mary raised her eyebrows in surprise at that claim. It seemed to her that Dante had talked a lot since she’d met him. Or had she done all the talking? She worried suddenly.

“All right, I shall have to fill you in,” Francis said determinedly, then scooted his seat closer, took her hand, looked her in the eyes and announced, “Mary, sweetheart, you are like the holy grail to Dante.”

She raised her eyebrows, but didn’t speak her doubts aloud and he continued.

“Now that he has you, Dante will never ever be the least interested in another woman, mortal or immortal.”

“Why?” she asked at once.

Francis’s eyes narrowed on her forehead, and then he clucked impatiently. “You know why. You have experienced the shared pleasure with him. That alone is enough to ensure he remains always faithful. Sex with anyone else simply could not compare. It would be like choosing Alpo for dinner over a gourmet meal.”

“Aside from that though,” he added, “If the nanos put you together, you were meant for each other.” When Mary looked dubious, he said, “I know, I know . . . you have not known each other long, but trust me, you will suit each other beautifully. The nanos are never wrong. Dante is your happy ever after.”

Mary merely nodded, unsure how she felt about what Francis said. On the one hand, she’d like to believe in happy ever after, but had learned through her own marriage and the people she’d counseled over the years since getting her doctorate, that happy ever after really didn’t exist . . . at least, not without work. Mary had been happy the last two thirds of her marriage, but it had been after years of misery and it had taken a choice and a lot of hard work. Even then it hadn’t been perfect. No one was perfect.

Francis patted her hand and said, “You shall see.”

Mary was saved from having to answer by the sudden ringing of a phone. Turning toward the sound, she watched Russell take a cell phone out of his pocket. He looked at the caller ID on the face, and then tapped it and pressed it to his ear.

“Lucian,” he said cordially, straightening from the window ledge and moving to the door.

Mary grimaced at the name.

“He’ll want to know if you are awake yet and that the turn went well,” Francis said quietly as Russell slipped out of the room.

Mary nodded and then movement caught her attention, and she glanced to the bed to see that Dante was sitting up. The phone must have woken him, she realized, and smiled as she watched him wipe sleep from his eyes.

“Sleeping Beauty is awake,” Francis sang out. Getting up and smiling at Mary, he said, “I shall go wait outside with Russell while the Hulk here dresses and then we will take you for breakfast. I know you are starved.” His gaze slid over her as she stood up and he added, “Then we will take you shopping.”

“Shopping?” she asked, reluctantly tearing her gaze from Dante’s naked chest to peer at him uncertainly.

“We need to buy you clothes,” he decided and then pointed out apologetically, “Darling, you are dressed like an old woman.”

“I am an old woman,” she said with amusement.

“Yes, but you look like Barbie. We should dress you accordingly.” He grinned suddenly. “It will be such fun.”

Mary smiled faintly, thinking it might very well have been fun. Unfortunately, she didn’t have her purse, and therefore didn’t have money until she found a bank. Actually, she realized with sudden concern, even then she’d have a problem, since she had no way to prove who she was so that she could gain access to her accounts. She had no ID. Not that that would help since she no longer looked like the sixty-two-year-old woman she was.

“Stop fretting,” Francis said lightly, heading for the door. “The council will take care of everything.”