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I was speechless.
“And that’s not all,” Oliver said, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
He took a few steps toward the easel, then slid the silk off, revealing the breathtaking painting of me in my purple dress. My breath hitched in my throat when I saw Oliver standing beside me in the portrait. I took in the beauty of the painting, but what captivated even more was the adoration and kindness in Oliver’s eyes.
“This is how I want us to be, Grace,” Oliver said. “Side-by-side, a team, facing whatever comes our way.” He gestured to the tiara he’d painted on my head. “And the tiara is because you deserve to be treated like a princess. When I picture my future, I see you there, always and forever.”
A surge of emotions filled me from my head to my toes.
I felt a tear escape down my cheek.
“Oliver, this is beautiful,” I whispered.
He leaned in, his eyes searching mine. “Grace, I love you. More than anything. I should have told you immediately about my feelings when you confessed your love for me, even if my mother was standing there. Will you forgive me?”
I took a deep breath and nodded enthusiastically. “Of course, I forgive you.”
Relief washed over his face, and he pulled me into a tight embrace. “You don’t know how much this means to me.” Then he leaned down and kissed me on the lips, the emotion almost too much for me to handle. “I love you, Grace. Always and forever.”
I smiled. “I love you, too.”
“That is music to my ears when you say that.” He pulled me even closer, and a playful twinkle lit up his eyes. “We’d better alert the airline, so they can get going without further delay. Oh, and I guess I am going to owe you another apology shortly.”
Furrowing my eyebrows, I asked, “Why is that?”
Oliver gestured toward the exit. “Because you and I are going to walk out that door together, as a couple, hand in hand, which will only mean one thing.” His grin widened. “We’re about to go viral again.”
I smirked. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Epilogue
PRINCE OLIVER
Three Months Later . . .
While Grace believed our trip to Corfu, Greece was solely for her birthday celebration, there was a hidden agenda.
The real reason was my impending proposal.
Proposing to a woman when you know she will say yes doesn’t make it any easier. I was a bundle of nerves because I wanted every detail to be flawless. To make it even more special for Grace, I had even flown in her best friend, Cristina, for the occasion. I envisioned an evening filled with fun and romance, hopefully something that Grace would always remember.
The guest list was as lively as the location—Mother and Sebastian, Enzo, Renzo, Aunt Honey, Dante, Adriana with her new boyfriend Demetrio, Theo, August, Veronica, and of course, Cristina.
Cousin Renzo’s expansive fifteen-bedroom beachfront estate provided the ideal backdrop in an exclusive area of Corfu.
After a sumptuous steak and lobster feast in the dining room, we migrated outside to the patio, eagerly anticipating the Mediterranean sunset. The crowning glory awaited us, a grand birthday cake. Double chocolate fudge, Grace’s favorite. The plan was for me to pop the question after the birthday song and candle-blowing ritual.
Grace and Mother were chatting over by the water fountain, both smiling. It warmed my heart to see that they were on agreeable terms after such a rocky and tumultuous start. In fact, Grace and Mother now took biweekly walks around the palace property, just the two of them, something I wouldn’t have predicted in a million years. Sebastian’s return had a profound effect on Mother, creating a remarkable transformation from a bitter heart to one filled with sweetness and light. She was like her old self again, especially with the addition of Freddie to her life.
Dante, ever the conspirator, leaned in. “Do you have the ring?”
I patted my pocket for what felt like the umpteenth time and nodded. “Got it. Here comes the birthday girl. Act naturally.”
Grace stopped in front of us with a beaming smile. “What are you two whispering about?”
I played it cool. “Guy things.”
“I’m not so sure I would categorize it as whispering,” Dante said with a shrug. “I have always been a big proponent of projecting my voice, if you must know. I’m sure you’ll notice when we sing happy birthday to you.”
