Butterflies flutter inside me. His fingers trail up my arm, and goose bumps form against my skin.
Then he leans in and whispers in my ear, “But you’re obsessed with me too.”
“And that’s what makes this so fucking dangerous.” I wrap my arms around his neck and hug him because I’m so happy he’s here.
“I have news … both good and bad,” he manages.
“Good news first,” I say. “Always.”
“I’ve been granted more time to decide who I’m proposing to. Two weeks after the ball, I have to tell the council who I’ve chosen. An official engagement announcement is still expected on September first.”
My kiss grows frantic. “That’s still soon.”
“Yes, but it gives us room to figure out a solid plan. The bad news is, my mother has decided to throw a ball on the second Saturday of August. I’ve learned that two hundred eligible women will be in attendance, all with hopes to win me over.”
I gulp, looking up at him. “Are you bringing a glass slipper?”
He chuckles against my throat. “Do you happen to have a spare one I can borrow?”
“Fresh out. That last prince refused to return it when I broke his heart,” I say. “Terribly sorry.”
He pulls away, meeting my eyes, and his expression grows serious. “You’ll be there.”
I frown. “I’m not eligible to attend.”
“You’re my personal guest,” he states. “It’s not up for discussion.”
“Don’t get reckless with this,” I warn.
“I want and need you there,” he says. “I’m not asking, Addison.”
I shake my head and take a step back from him. “No. Absolutely not.”
“Yes, I’ve already put your name on the guest list. Trust me on this. Please,” he says, tilting my chin upward before capturing my mouth. “We’re playing chess, sweetheart. Not checkers. When the clock strikes midnight, it will be check.”
“In the end, do we win?”
A slow smile spreads on his adorable face as he pulls me against him. We dance in the cottage to no music.
“We do. Because I’m not giving you up. Nothing in the whole damn world compares to this. To us. I’ll fight until my death.”
I run my fingers through my hair. “When you look at me like that, I know you mean it, drama king.”
He spins me around. “It’s because this is the real deal, babe.”
“Are you sure you’re not faking it?”
He breathes out as we sway. “Shut the fuck up. You know I could never.”
I pull him closer, enjoying every ticking second. “I’ve missed you so much.”
“I’ve missed you too,” he confesses. “Seeing you in passing is enough to make me go mad. I don’t know how my grandmother did it.”
“I don’t know how Henri did. I’m too territorial over what’s mine. Seeing you with all those women … I hope I’m always enough for you.” I tilt my chin until our mouths are closer.
His eyes darken. “I can’t get enough of you.”
“You’re mine, Louis.” I press my body against his. “And I don’t like to share.”
