by Miranda King
“Oh, you’ve got a lot of making up to do.” I stretched and yawned like a kitten settling in for the night. “But can I take a nap first?”
“Yes.” He chuckled. “I’ll be ready when you wake up.” He kissed my cheek again. “And every morning after that.”
I nestled closer to him, and he draped his arm across my stomach and breasts.
“And from now on, you’re not driving that black car.” His voice didn’t invite argument. “You’re driving only the red one I bought for you.”
I nodded. I understood what those two cars represented to him. “I didn’t know you actually bought that red one for me. I thought it was some kind of a rental.”
“Yes, I bought it,” he said as if there’d be no other way. “And it’s still sitting in my garage when it should be in yours.”
“Oh, I get it,” I teased him. “You want everyone to know where you park your car every night.”
“Something like that.” He chuckled. “And I’m holding you to that ‘every night’ part,” he said. “And you, Granny, and Bella, if she wants, are moving out of the WD. I already have the place picked out. It’s close to me.” He kissed my cheek. “But I hope you’ll choose to spend all your nights at my house. I’m having one of the bedrooms decorated with lilacs everywhere for Granny.”
I inhaled a deep breath. There was so much to take in with this man. “When did you decide all of that? We hadn’t even, um… you know, slept together, yet.”
“After I came into your room and kissed you, I set things in motion.” He shrugged his shoulder.
He was a grand gesture guy. From that red car on my first day, to my necklace, to right now with wanting to move me out of the WD. In other words, he belonged firmly in my category of All Talk, All Action. And as overwhelming as that could be, it was also what I’d always wanted in a man.
“I’ll need to talk with Granny and Bella, and we’ll have to see if we can afford it.”
“You’ll be able to afford it,” he said. “Trust me.”
We should’ve talked about the details. We should’ve talked about how I might not be here long because I’d hear from Stanvard Law soon. But my brain did an emergency shut down on my mouth. I was too sleepy, too content to wrestle with all those questions looming over us.
“And I can’t wait for you to meet my younger brother, Rylan,” he said. “He’ll love you.”
I fought with my eyes to stay open. “If Divina were here, she’d tell you not to forget about your very beautiful sister.” I yawned.
“She would say that.” He laughed. “And I can’t wait to meet the rest of your family.”
When the time came, what would he say when he found out exactly who my father was? Would he be impressed? Or would he see my father the way I saw him? Not worthy, despite his impressive title, of being called “father.”
A chill came over me, and I shivered.
He pulled the sheets and bedspread over us. I cuddled against him and drifted in and out of sleep while he stroked my hair and caressed my cheek.
Under the cover of night, he shared something about his company Diamond Corp., a multi-billion dollar operation, being held in a trust because of his divorce. His father didn’t want his ex-wife to get half the company. There were some stipulations about how to get it back. Then something about two billion dollars in his name located in various banks outside of Maravista.
“That’s nice.” My eyes opened halfway.
He laughed. “Only you wouldn’t care about all of that.” His fingers swirled in my hair, lulling me to sleep. “But how about being a princess?”
“In case there’s any doubt, I am not going to be Michael’s princess.” I stifled a yawn.
“Damn right you’re not,” he growled.
“Good. That’s finally settled.” The yawn escaped me, and I snuggled against his warm chest. “I only want to be Mrs. Princeton.”
Was there any possibility that I didn’t just blurt out I wanted to be his wife?
He chuckled.
I thought not.
And what the hell was wrong with me? I’d slept with him one time—well, technically twice—and now suddenly I was spouting off hints about marriage?
I attempted damage control. “I only meant that whoever married you should care less about being a princess. Any woman should be honored with the title of Mrs. Princeton.”
He laughed once again, and I could feel the vibrations in his chest. “I keep forgetting you’re American.” He said it the same way Smart Sally so often did to me, too. “When I told you all that I have is yours, that includes my name.”
He wants to give me his name… he wants to marry me?!
He brushed back some hair from my forehead. “In the morning, I have something for you. But right now I need to be sure that you won’t regret never getting to be a queen. That’s something Michael can give you that I can’t.” He drew out a long breath.
How often had I heard those sighs, those long exhales and inhales, and not the words he was thinking? And now, he was letting me into his heart. Unguarded, bare. Nothing between us. Stripped naked. Tonight physically one… emotionally one.
“I only want to be Mrs. Princeton,” I said, this time without hesitation. “I only want to be married to you.”
“Then that’s what you’ll be soon enough.” He kissed my forehead. “Mrs. Princeton it is. Whatever it takes, so long as everyone knows you’re mine.”
He hugged me closer to him. “Goodnight, Mrs. Princeton.”
“Night, Mr. Princeton.” I entwined my legs with his. “I’m going to like the name Mrs. Princeton.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to be known as Princess Sass?”
“Dear Lord, we’re back to this again. I only want to be Mrs. Princeton.”
“Just checking.” Another deep chuckle rumbled through his chest and his warm body cradled me to sleep.
I awoke to the promise of sunrise. The sun wasn’t quite up, but Christian was. He stood with his back to me, facing the glass balcony doors.
He was naked from head to toe, reminding me that every part of him had touched every part of me last night.
White light shrouded his bare body, but I could see red scratches across the wide expanse of his back. He looked battle-scarred. Dear Lord, had I caused that?
He shifted to hold something between his two fingers up to the light. Whatever it was sparkled. I caught a glimpse of it…
A ring?
He’d had that ring last night. I remembered seeing something shiny when I’d first come in that he’d placed on a bureau.
Now he fixated on it. And I could see a hint of that beautiful smile of his.
That was my ring, wasn’t it?
My breath hitched. I caught his attention.
He closed his fingers around the ring and set it down on a table with his back to me.
I supposed he thought I didn’t see it, but I’d let him keep that illusion. I didn’t need to ask about the ring—knowing he had it was enough for me. When he was ready, he’d give it to me.
“Good morning, Mrs. Princeton.” He strolled towards me. “Are you sore this morning?”
I stretched. “Perhaps a little.”
He slid into bed beside me. “Too sore for me?” He caressed his finger down my cheek.
“Never.”
“I love you, Sass.” And then he started to show me how much with his body.
A hard and deep knock at his door interrupted us. That knock could’ve been a customized ringtone for Nathan.
Sorry, Nathan, we were not answering that door.
I knew it. Christian knew it. Hell, Nathan would figure it out soon enough.
He pounded and pounded and pounded.
“Princeton, it’s urgent.” Nathan’s voice even sounded like it was.
Christian cursed. We rustled the sheets to get out of bed, but he stopped me.
“No, stay here.” He lifted my chin with his finger and gazed at me. “I’m pretty s
ure I tore through most of your clothes and having you traipse down the hallway in my sheets is not how I wanted to announce you as the future Mrs. Princeton.”
I saw the red panties he’d ripped off me on the floor. Yep, he had a point.
“I’ll come back, and whatever it is, we’ll face it together.” He kissed my lips like a man going off to battle. He reluctantly tore away and rested his forehead against mine. “Love you.”
“Love you, too.” I placed my palms on his rock-hard chest.
His heart beat sure, steady. His eyes held me captive. And so did his words…
“Wait for me.”
“Always.”
He kissed my forehead, and far too soon… he was gone.
To My Writer Friends:
You are bestselling authors and TV/film writers. I still can’t help but to “fangirl” you when I see your names on the bookshelves and TV/film credits. Thank you for all of your advice… and for always having my back, as I have yours.
You know who you are.
To My Fashion Royalty Friends:
We are scattered across America, Canada, China, Southeast Asia, Australia, and Europe. Yet, we are connected and help each other in our individual quests for these ultra-limited edition Fashion Royalty pieces that are so difficult to find. I’m honored to be part of our community.
Rosalind C., thank you for introducing me to our Fashion Royalty world, priming me on the fundamentals, and answering my questions—you’re an incredible, generous friend.
I also owe very special recognition to two friends who’ve helped me tremendously on double-checking the doll details for this book: Rich B. and Val C.
Rich and Val, I’ll never forget the debate over which Fashion Royalty outfits came with red panties and which specific one I should use in the book. I’m still laughing over it!
Thank you both for your expertise with all things involving Fashion Royalty, for your insights into fabrics, for answering my questions about outfits that I don’t have in my personal collection, and for all your support and encouragement you gave me while I wrote this book. To borrow a phrase from Granny, “for the love of dolls,” I’m so lucky to have you as friends.
For more information about Miranda King and her books, visit:
http://mirandaking.com/