Pretty When They Collide (Pretty When She Dies 0.5)(4)

The limousine glided beneath the awe-inspiring portico to The Venetian. The many lanes were filled with cars offloading passengers and luggage. Many of the newcomers craned their heads to gaze up at the murals painted on the ceiling framed by gilded molding.

“Gaudy Americans. You have to love it,” Frank said with a charming grin.

Aimee rolled her eyes.

“Oh, come now, my pouty witch. What’s with the gloomy look? Look at all the pretty things you’re wearing.”

Aimee didn’t even respond. She’d rather be wearing a flowing skirt, filmy blouse, and boots. Whenever he dressed her in expensive clothes and jewels she felt like his possession and not a real person. But then again, lately she felt like she didn’t even know who the real version of herself was anymore. The only things that she was certain of were that she was a powerful witch and dreadfully unhappy.

The door opened and she was helped out by one of the porters. He was rudely dismissed by the guard who had slid out of the front seat. Other guards exited the black SUV that had tailed them all the way to the casino from the airport. Frank sauntered around the back of the limousine, adjusting his lapels and bow tie, smiling rakishly at some young women ogling him.

“Keep track of those lovely young things,” he said to one of the guards.

The man nodded and melded into the crowd of people.

Aimee closed her eyes for a second, composing herself. She didn’t want to think about what might happen to the clutch of chattering girls that were blatantly giving Frank come-hither looks.

Tucking his hand under her elbow, Frank urged Aimee through the front doors into the massive lobby of The Venetian. The arched ceiling covered in murals, the intricate pillars, and gleaming marble floors were luxurious and did an excellent job of mimicking the opulence of the architecture of the Northern Italian city. To Aimee’s amusement, she heard some Italians talking excitedly to one another as they snapped photos.

Striding down the corridor, Frank carried himself like the aristocrat he had once been. He was immensely charming and good-looking. At one point in her life, she couldn’t look at him without feeling like she was the luckiest woman in the world. Now she had to force herself not to recoil from his touch. The high heels she wore perfectly matched her dress, but were so tall she had to clutch his arm to keep her balance. She longed for one of her many pairs of boots. The thought of wearing her cowboy boots with the designer gown made her smirk with wicked mirth.

“There’s that beautiful smile, my little witch,” Frank said, misreading her expression. “I love it when you smile.”

“There hasn’t been much to smile about,” she answered truthfully.

“You’re homesick. I understand that. We’ll be home soon.”

Aimee sighed, knowing that Frank would never understand the true reason for her unhappiness.

“Now, remember: this is a new client, Aimee, so I may need you to do a little showing off. Nothing flashy. We’re meeting in public. Just a little something-something to make him take notice that I do not do any false advertising.”

“I think I can manage,” Aimee answered, touching her small clutch with one hand. Inside were three protein bars. Magic drained her significantly and protein helped build her back up. She had tried carbohydrates and sugar, but the crash that followed drained her again.

“Smart girl. Always thinking ahead.” He brushed the back of his hand against her cheek, the blue stone in his ring very cold against her skin. She shivered at the touch. The ring had a very deep, dangerous enchantment in it, but Frank wasn’t afraid of anything.

Maneuvering through the casino, Frank’s guards escorted them to one of the swanky lounges. Aimee reinforced her mental shields. Sometimes people could detect that she was something more than human and she wanted to make sure that she looked like nothing more than Frank’s arm candy. Aimee was aware of the many eyes following them as they strolled through the opulent casino. She often wondered why Frank didn’t tone it down when in public, but then she’d remember how much he loved an audience. In some ways he was a showman at heart.

“Arnost has a lot of connections in Eastern Europe. A partnership of sorts between us would be incredibly beneficial, so let’s try to not be a sulky witch.” Frank stopped, wrapped an arm around her, and leaned toward her. His black eyes were penetrating behind his red-tinted glasses. “I know I’ve been working you pretty hard lately, but you’re my special girl. A rare jewel of greatest regard. You know that, right?” His most charming smile graced his sensuous lips. He gave her waist a little squeeze. “Let me see that little snarky smile again.”

Aimee lifted her eyes in exasperation, but slid a false grin onto her lips.

“Ah, there it is.” Frank’s fingers traced the edge of her chin. “You’re so beautiful when you smile.”

“You’re a flatterer,” Aimee said dismissively.

“True, but I’m a sincere flatterer.” Frank kissed her cheek, then resumed his trek to the lounge.

The guards kept a discreet distance, but Aimee was annoyed by their presence. They were not only with Frank to protect him, but also to keep her from potentially fleeing. The vampire who claimed ownership of her was well aware of her recent discontent and what she was capable of doing when pushed. He also knew she was bound by blood to him and could not leave him if she tried. Yet, he was cautious when it came to his possessions and the guards were insurance against possibly losing her.