Trouble

“You are the most amazing woman.”

Her cheek rises, and I turn her to face me, looking down into her lazy blue eyes. “You’re my hero.”

For a moment, I take in her beauty. Her hair falls around her shoulders in messy, just-fucked waves, and her black silk dress is off one shoulder. Reaching down, I slide it up her arm. She leans closer, pressing her lips to my neck.

My eyes close, and I want to carry her upstairs and repeat what we just did in my bed many times.

Instead, I place my hands on her shoulders. “I had other plans before we left the restaurant tonight.”

She leans against the wall, smiling at me. “Other than making that fucking Idiot apologize for living and making me love you even more as if that were even possible?”

“That was pretty good, but it wasn’t on my original agenda.”

“It was better than pretty good.”

“What I wanted to do was this.” Lowering to my knee, I pat the pocket of my jacket, locating the small item our waiter was going to bring out with the tiramisu.

Her eyes widen, and she places her right hand over her heart—the same hand that holds my promise ring, which she never takes off.

This item is more delicate. It’s an 18-karat, white gold diamond engagement ring with a three-karat oval diamond in the center and two baguettes on each side. In the band, I had the words “My queen” engraved.

“In the last nine months, I hope I’ve proven myself to you. I intend to go on making you happy, fighting for you, protecting you. Will you marry me?”

She drops to her knees as I slide the ring on her left hand, nodding as she puts her arms around my neck. “Yes, of course, I will. I love you.”

My eyes close, and I hold her tightly to my body, feeling the warmth of her, the beating of her heart, the fire in her soul. This woman, who brought so much trouble into my life…

She broke me free from my prison. She melted the ice around my heart. She taught me to love—she taught me I could love.

I’ll never let her go.

Lifting my head, I smooth my hands down the sides of her fiery red hair, gazing deep into her sparkling blue eyes. I kiss the freckles on her nose, so thankful she fell into my arms, my witchy angel, my queen.

“I love you.”

Epilogue

Joselyn

“Why aren’t you wearing your helmet?” Spencer stalks across the parquet floors of the Oceanside Hotel’s Grand Ballroom with a football helmet in his hand.

“I thought that was a joke.” I’m at the top of a ladder threading the final flowers into a larger than life-sized sculpture of Belle and Prince Adam.

It’s a slight variation from the one I made for the ball in that Belle’s hair is redder, and they’re embracing closely rather than just dancing. It’s my one contribution to the reception for our wedding, coming in only two days.

Gazing down at him, holding that ridiculous helmet he got from Daisy, I wonder if I could love him more if he weren’t so over-protective.

Short answer: No.

“It’s most definitely not a joke. I won’t have you walking down the aisle in a neck brace.”

I place the final coral rose in the side of Belle’s hair then I sit back on the ladder, smiling at my creation. “It’s perfect. Just like you.”

“Come down from that ladder at once. I don’t want to injure my back before our honeymoon.”

My nose wrinkles at my fussy fiancé, so sexy in an Armani suit. His dark hair is messy around his temples like he’s been walking on the beach, and his hazel eyes are broody. That muscle in his perfectly square jaw moves like it does when he’s annoyed with me.

He still takes my breath away.