Louis
You’re smart. Make up something. I’ll be there within an hour.
I set the phone down and take her in one last time before I leave. Her lips are slightly parted, and her curled lashes are dark against her cheeks. In this light, she looks at peace. I press a soft kiss against her forehead, and her eyes flutter open.
“You’re still here.” Her morning voice is so fucking adorable.
“Yes, but I need to leave. I’ll come see you as soon as I can,” I promise. “Go back to sleep.”
She’s already more awake, pushing up on her elbow to steal another kiss.
“I have to go. My mother’s asking questions. I’m missing tea.” I capture her lips, tasting her until I hear that little sound in the back of her throat that drives me insane. “But I’ll see you tonight. As long as you don’t have any plans.”
“I’ll check my schedule.” She pulls me back down for another kiss. “Don’t be late. Don’t get caught.”
“Oh, babe. As the crown prince, I’m never late. Everyone else is early.”
Addison shakes her head. “Asshole.”
“Maybe a tad.”
I press my lips against hers, and things grow more heated, but I stop.
“Oh, is that your painting?” I ask.
Before I say anything else, she’s standing on her feet with the sheet wrapped around her. “You’ll have to wait until the reveal.”
I playfully pout. “What if I demand it?”
“It’s tradition. I never show my subject until it’s complete. Your bratty, princely little demands don’t work on me.”
I wrap my arms around her. “Maybe one day.”
As I get dressed, she moves to the bathroom. “Think about me.”
“Always,” I say, then force myself to leave.
On the walk back to the palace, I realize my clothes are wrinkled. I pray no one runs into me because I look like a man who spent the night somewhere he shouldn’t have. Thankfully, I make it to my quarters without being seen.
After I’m showered and dressed in fresh clothes, I find my mother in her private sitting room. Today, I feel like I’ve gotten rest, sleep that I haven’t been able to find in my adult life. For the first ten minutes, I pretend I care about what she’s saying.
“… and the ambassador has requested a private audience about the trade negotiations, which I’ve scheduled for next Tuesday, but if the timing doesn’t work with your—” She stops and tilts her head at me. “Louis, are you listening?”
“Ambassador. Trade negotiations. Tuesday.” I take a sip of tea. “I’mriveted.”
“You’redistracted.” She studies me with those eyes that miss nothing. “You seem different today.”
I keep my expression neutral. “I slept well, and I’m ready to conquer the day.”
“Maybe that’s what it is. I can tell. Do that every night.” She sets down her teacup.
I smirk. “I’d love to.”
“I wanted to discuss something with you. I’ve been observing Miss Cross.”
Every muscle in my body tenses, but I don’t show it. “The painter?”
“Yes. She’s quite talented. Her work is extraordinary. Henri would have been impressed.”
