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“Lucas. Honestly—”
“One of your favorite words, amada. Honestly, you needed something to wear.”
“But not all this! Lucas, really—”
Another box landed next to her. “At least take a look and tell me if you hate my taste, chica. As a favor, si?”
She flashed him a look, told herself sternly she would not be drawn in…
And undid the ribbon.
“Oh,” she whispered. “Oh, Lucas!”
“Is that a good ‘oh’ or a bad ‘oh’?”
He sounded so innocent, but the self-satisfied gleam in his eyes gave him away.
“It’s a bad one,” she said primly. “Why would any woman want a dress like this? A dress made of—of gossamer and moonbeams and—and, oh God, it’s so beautiful…”
Lucas caught her up in his arms.
“You are what is beautiful,” he said. “And I hope you will do me the honor of wearing these things, amada, because it will do my heart so much good.”
Alyssa looped her arms around her lover’s neck.
“It will do your heart good, hmm?”
He grinned. “Si.”
“And if I said no, I want to wear my own clothes?”
“I would say, these are your own clothes now, chica—especially since I told Dolores to toss out the others.”
“You tossed out my clothes without asking me?”
“Of course. What was the point in asking when I knew you would insist on keeping them?”
He was laughing and it was impossible not to laugh with him. Alyssa ran through her mental list again. Her prince was arrogant and impossible, and why did she love him anyway?
Because she did. She loved him, loved him—
“Lyssa? What is it?”
“Nothing,” she said breathlessly. “Nothing. I just—I just felt a little dizzy, that’s all.”
His eyes darkened. “Shall I call the doctor? Is it your head? Your knee?”
It was her heart, but how did you say that to a man who wouldn’t want to hear it?
“I’m fine. Truly. I’m just—I’m thrilled that you thought of giving me such beautiful things.”
“Really?” he said softly. “You feel all right?”
“I feel wonderful.”
Lucas cleared his throat. “In that case…I told my grandfather we would be at the hospital by six.”
“Your grandfather? You spoke to him?”
