Page 22 of Bewitched by the Fruit Bat King (The Bewitching Hour #3)

"Every last petal," I confirmed. "For a fair price, of course."

"Ohmygod, that is the most romantic thing I've ever heard," Bethany breathed, clutching her heart-shaped consultation cards to her chest. "Like, straight out of a movie. The grumpy CEO buys out her entire inventory just to spend time with her!"

"I didn't say anything about spending time with her," I pointed out, though of course that was exactly my intention.

Luna's knowing smile suggested she wasn't fooled. "Fair price is one thing, but what exactly do you plan to do with all these flowers? I doubt your penthouse needs quite this many arrangements."

"They'll remain here," I explained. "To be incorporated into your displays, given away with purchases, whatever you see fit. I simply wish to... free up Willow's afternoon."

"So you can monopolize it instead," Luna finished.

I inclined my head slightly. "I prefer to think of it as efficient resource allocation."

Bethany squealed. Actually squealed. "It's perfect! She's been working so hard on these new spell-infused arrangements, she deserves a break. And Luna, don't those protection poppies go beautifully with your manifestation crystals? We could bundle them!"

Luna studied me for a long moment, her silver eyes seeming to strip away centuries of carefully constructed facade. "Willow won't appreciate having decisions made for her."

"I'm aware."

"She's not one of your corporate acquisitions, Drake."

"I'm aware of that as well."

Another long, assessing look. Finally, she nodded once. "Double her asking price, and we have a deal. But if she throws those poppies at your head, don't say I didn't warn you."

"I'll take my chances." I withdrew my phone, transferred the funds with a few taps, and added a generous bonus. "Consider it done."

"You vampire types do love your grand gestures," Bethany sighed dreamily as she moved to take down the price tags on the flower display. "Willow just went for fresh maple bars and a blt at Henderson's stand. If you hurry, you might 'accidentally' run into her."

I thanked them with a slight bow and turned to leave.

"Drake," Luna called after me. I paused but didn't turn around. "The fates rarely bind what isn't meant to endure. Remember that when the breaking comes."

A chill settled between my shoulder blades. Luna's cryptic warning echoed too closely what Morana had told me weeks ago. Before I could question her further, my attention was caught by Willow weaving through the crowd, a paper bag clutched in one hand and a steaming cup in the other.

She spotted her flower display first, confusion flitting across her features before her eyes locked on me standing with her friends. The confusion hardened into something closer to irritation as she quickened her pace.

"What's going on?" she demanded, looking between the three of us. "Where are all my price tags for my flowers?"

Bethany bounced on her toes. "Kane bought them all! Isn't that the most—"

"You did what?" Willow cut her friend off, fixing me with a glare that would have made lesser beings take a step back. I held my ground, meeting her fire with calm.

"I purchased your remaining inventory," I explained smoothly. "At double your asking price, I might add."

"I don't need your vampire charity," she snapped, color rising in her cheeks. "Those arrangements were commissioned. I have orders to fill."

"They'll still be filled," I assured her. "Your friends will distribute them accordingly. All payments have been processed, all customers will receive their flowers."

"Then why—" She stopped, realization dawning. "You're trying to get me to close early."

"I'm trying to get you to have lunch with me," I corrected. "And perhaps explore the festival without worrying about rushing back to your booth."

The bond between us thrummed with her conflicting emotions—irritation battling with a reluctant appreciation she was trying desperately to suppress. I waited, knowing better than to push further.

"You could have just asked," she finally said, the heat fading from her voice.

"Would you have said yes?"

Her brief hesitation was answer enough.

"That's what I thought." I moved closer, just enough to catch the scent of her—sunshine and soil and something uniquely Willow. "One hour. That's all I'm asking for. Then if you want to return and sell flowers until midnight, I won't stop you."

She looked up at me, those remarkable eyes searching mine for ulterior motives. "You bought out my entire inventory for one hour of my time?"

"I've negotiated far less favorable terms in my business career," I replied truthfully.

A reluctant smile tugged at her lips. "You're ridiculous, you know that?"

"I've been called worse."

"Fine." She handed her paper bag to Bethany. "One hour. But if I find out you've scared off my customers or intimidated anyone, deal's off."

"I would never," I replied, all innocence.

Bethany's delighted giggle and Luna's knowing smirk followed us as I gently guided Willow away from their booth with a light hand at the small of her back. The contact, even through layers of clothing, sent a pleasant warmth through my palm.

"So," Willow said once we were safely out of earshot, "does the king of vampires do this often? Buy out small businesses to get what he wants?"

"Only the particularly stubborn ones." I allowed a small smile. "Though I typically acquire the entire business, not just their daily inventory."

"Lucky me," she muttered, but there was less bite in her tone now.

We wandered through the festival grounds side by side, close enough that occasionally our hands brushed, sending little sparks of awareness through the bond. I noted with satisfaction that she didn't pull away from these accidental touches.

"So what exactly does the CEO of Kane Industries do at a small-town fall festival?" she asked as we paused at a booth selling hand-carved wooden figurines. "Besides buying out flower witches and judging pumpkin contests?"

"The same as anyone else. Enjoy the atmosphere. Sample local products. Scout potential acquisitions."

She shot me a look. "You're here on business?"

"I'm always on business, flower girl. But not exclusively." I picked up a wooden carving of a wolf, examining its craftsmanship. "Haven's Cross has unique resources worth cultivating."

"Resources. How romantic."

I set down the carving and turned to face her fully. "You prefer I lie? Claim I came solely for the pleasure of your company, when we both know we barely know each other beyond our mate bond? My family has been part of this festival since it began. I never miss it."

She blushed slightly. "No. I appreciate honesty."

"Good. Then honestly, I came because Haven's Harvest is performing beyond projections, the fall festival represents significant marketing opportunities, and..." I paused, meeting her eyes directly, "because I haven't been able to stop thinking about you."

Her breath caught, the blush deepening. The bond between us throbbed with shared awareness.

"Oh," she said softly.

"Indeed."

We continued walking, a charged silence between us.

The festival bustled around us—children racing with painted faces, vendors calling out their wares, the scent of cinnamon and apples permeating the air.

For once, I found myself content to simply exist in the moment, my usually racing thoughts quieted by her presence.

We stopped at several booths, a pattern emerging in our interactions.

I assessed each vendor with businesslike efficiency, noting quality, presentation, and market viability.

Willow engaged them personally, asking about their families, complimenting specific details, creating connections.

While my approach surely intimidated a few, hers opened doors to stories and secrets freely shared.

"Do you ever go feral around so much fruit?" she asked suddenly as we passed a display of heirloom apples. "I mean, all these orchards and farms—it seems an odd choice for a fruit bat vampire run business. You hear about vampires getting blood lust, do you ever get fruit lust?"

I laughed, genuinely amused by her bluntness. "Vampires don't 'go feral' around anything except perhaps other vampires encroaching on our territories on a normal day."

"So why fruit? And honey? And..." she gestured toward my booth where customers were lined up three deep, "whatever else Haven's Harvest produces?"

I considered deflecting with the business answer—diversification of assets, agricultural tax advantages, renewable resource management. All true, but not the whole truth.

"My mother loved gardens," I said instead, the words feeling rusty with disuse. I rarely spoke of my human life. "You saw the space she created. I also feel as if I have a duty to the other vampires. I can keep their food source safe if we grow it ourselves. Both with produce and blood banks."

Willow's expression softened. "That's... not what I expected."

"No?" I arched an eyebrow. "Did you think I'd say it was purely for profit?"

"Kind of, yeah."

I shrugged. "That would be easier, wouldn't it?

The cold, calculating vampire king who sees only dollar signs and opportunities.

And don't mistake me—Haven's Harvest is exceptionally profitable.

But it's also..." I hesitated, searching for the right word, "a connection to something I thought I'd lost."

She studied me with new interest, as if seeing beneath the surface for the first time. "My grandmother was the same way about her flowers. Said each bloom had a voice if you knew how to listen."

"And do you? Know how to listen?"

"Sometimes." Her smile turned wistful. "That's what Floramancy is—the magic of flowers, their language and power. It's not as flashy as some witch specialties, but it has its moments."

"Like enchanting ivy to forcibly remove unwanted vampires from your apartment?" I teased.