Page 110 of The Worst Best Man
There were enough people milling about to Frankie’s way of thinking. Sure, Bieber would have caused a fan frenzy, but there were still two dozen curious passers-by and seven guys with cameras when they left the safety of the restaurant. Security barreled their way through the crowd forcing the cameras back as Aiden tucked her under his arm and guided her to the waiting limo.
She was blinded by the flashes but otherwise unscathed. And the second Aiden slid in behind her, the door closed, sealing them off from prying eyes.
“Why do you eat here if you get that kind of response?” she asked, flopping back against the head rest.
The back of the limo still smelled faintly of sweat and sex.
“They’re more interested in you and who you are to me,” Aiden told her.
“Well, they better prepare for disappointment,” Frankie shot back.
Aiden tugged her into his lap and reached inside her coat to hold her around the waist.
“It goes with the territory. Just like your mom slapping everyone. It’s one of those things we all have to tolerate.”
Frankie laughed and rested her head against his chest. She’d half expected him to jump her again the second they got in the car. But this was nice too. Very nice.
“You’re breathtaking, Franchesca.”
“Aide,” she said softly.
He shook his head. “I’m not trying to give you a compliment. I’m warning you. They’re going to find out who you are. They’re going to want to know everything about you and put it up for public consumption.”
“Why?” she asked.
“Because you’re mine.”
It was arrogant the way he stated it as fact. But damn it if she didn’t like hearing that claim just a little bit.
She opened her mouth.
“Don’t argue with me,” he warned her.
“It’s what I do best,” she teased, toying with the buttons of his shirt.
“Don’t argue about not belonging to me. I belong to you. I’m yours. All in, remember? It goes both ways.”
“All in,” Frankie murmured.
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Aiden’s building was in the middle of everything important. Only three blocks from his office, he could walk should he choose to brave the masses. Though after witnessing the attention he attracted, Frankie didn’t blame him for hiring a car. Not much fun feeling like a goldfish in a bowl on the commute to work. Where everyone else in the city was an anonymous stranger, Aiden’s face and name was known far and wide.
And now Frankie was stepping into that orbit. Willingly.
The lobby was guarded by a uniformed doorman and a smartly suited woman in black behind a sleek U-shaped workstation. “Good evening, Mr. Kilbourn,” she greeted him with a professional smile.
“Good evening, Alberta. This is Ms. Baranski,” he said, nodding at Frankie as he pulled her along, never slowing his pace.
“A pleasure, Ms. Baranski,” Alberta said.
“Nice to meet you,” Frankie answered over her shoulder as she jogged to keep up with him.
Aiden was towing her toward the bank of elevators like a pack of hyenas were on their heels.
They stepped inside, and Aiden pulled a key from his coat pocket.
“Don’t even,” Frankie said, shaking her head.
