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‘Hey, don’t let her spoil tonight. This is on her, not you.’
I can’t bring myself to agree.
‘I mean it, Princess...’ He bows his head, brushes the lightest kiss to my ear. ‘Forget about her and enjoy your ball, because everyone else who matters is.’
I let my gaze drift over the room, catch sight of Juan at the bar, surrounded by a group of attentive women, and manage a smile. ‘Your friend certainly is.’
He follows my line of sight. ‘It never takes him long to garner an audience.’
‘He does have a certain something about him.’
Edward’s eyes come back to me, sharp, probing. ‘Don’t tell me you go in for that tall, dark and handsome thing?’
‘Oh, I don’t know...his Spanish can be quite the aphrodisiac.’
He’s jealous—it’s as obvious as the warmth radiating off his body into mine. And provoking him is sending me a little dizzy.
‘As for the tall, dark, and handsome thing...it certainly appeals. But I prefer mine quintessentially British.’
I stroke the base of his neck as I let my meaning hit home and feel rather than hear the soft growl that he gives. ‘You’d better believe it, Princess.’
My laugh is breathy. ‘You know, I could get used to that.’
‘What?’
‘You calling me Princess.’
‘Stick around long enough and I’ll call you it all you like.’
My heart pulses with the vehemence in his tone—but he’s teasing, right? So why does it feel like a proposition of sorts? A demand? A desire for this to be something more...?
But how much more?
I press my cheek to his chest, hide my eyes from his and lose myself in the dance, the music, and the steady beat of his heart beneath my ear.
His mother continues to hover on the outskirts, like an annoying gnat that keeps buzzing, close enough to be heard but not close enough to take out. Not that I’d dare.
And she’s hurting too...in her own way. She’s lost her mother and what would have been her home.
As for me—I’m not that scared teenager trying to find a place in a world that doesn’t make sense, running away from her cutting words. I can hold my ground... Although that doesn’t mean I belong here, with her son, any more than I did back then.
For now, though, I snuggle in closer, let his warmth ease away the chill. For now, I can hold on to this feeling and get through tonight and tomorrow and the next day...until the day comes when I have to say goodbye.
‘Are you ready to give your speech?’ he asks.
I press away from his chest. ‘Not particularly. Public speaking isn’t really my forte.’
‘You’ll be fine.’
‘Are you sure I can’t persuade you into giving it?’
‘I’m going to present you, but this amazing achievement is all you, and I’m not stealing your glory.’
His encouragement teases out a smile. ‘Well, when you put it like that...’
He leads me towards the band, releases me with a gentle squeeze of his fingers. I watch as he negotiates ownership of the microphone and the flutters inside me multiply.
You can do this, I silently tell myself. Just speak from the heart—that’s all you need to do. Tell them your truth and be thankful.
