Page 117 of Rags to Royals

He stops in front of the chair I’m curled up in, someone’s hoodie draped over my lap. I tip my head back and smile up at him. “You’re so hot.”

He gives me a crooked grin. “Ditto.”

“I’m having so much fun.”

His smile softens with affection that steals my breath for a moment. He leans over, bracing his hands on the arms of the chair. “I love having you here.”

“Kiss me,” I say softly, the words going through my mind just spilling out.

He leans in. “Gladly. Any time. Any place.”

He presses his lips to mine and I sigh against his mouth. It’s a sweet kiss. Nothing hot or sexy. Just…affectionate.

Being the object of Cian’s affection is addictive.

He pulls back only an inch to say, “I love being able to do that. In public. In front of people.”

“Me too,” I admit.” I let out a long breath. “I could stay here,” I tell him. “Seriously. I really love your people. Mariah and Ruby would love them, too.”

He pulls back a little further to look into my eyes. His expression is serious now. Possessive, if I had to pick a word to name it. “Be careful what you say to me. You know making you happy, making sure you can shine, is everything I want. You candefinitelydo that here.”

I put my hand against the side of his face. “I do know that.”

Emotions swirl in his eyes as he studies mine. Finally, he says huskily, “Okay, sweet witch, time for bed.”

He pulls me to my feet and I happily step close and wrap my arms around his neck. He bends and sweeps me up into his arms, bridal style.

I rest my head on his shoulder. This feels really nice.

“I can probably walk.”

“I like this better.” He starts for the parking lot.

I feel my eyes sliding shut. But it’s more out of contentment than fatigue. “Do you have a bathtub in your house here?”

“As a matter of fact, I do. A big one. All my own.”

“Excellent news,” I murmur. “And no matter how sleepy I seem between now and the time we get to that bathtub, I would really like to try it out.”

He chuckles softly, and I love the way the sound rumbles through my body.

“Are you drunk?” he asks.

“Tipsy. Not too drunk.”

He stops by the car and lets me slide down the front of his body. I stand looking up at him.

“I really like you,” I tell him.

I think it’s too soon to tell him I’m falling in love, but I can’t not say anything at all.

If I saidlove, he’d drag me to the Justice of the Peace tomorrow. And there’s a tiny part of me that would be fine with that. A tiny part of me feels the twist of adrenaline at the thought.

But I really am older, wiser, more mature now. I would have run off with Eli. I’d expected him to ask. After my dad shunned us, I’d had visions of him showing up at my house in the middle of the night, declaring his feelings, and whisking me away.

But Eli never came. He left town. Without me. Without even saying goodbye. Without a word about his unborn child or the future with him or her.

And now, sixteen years later, I can admit that was for the best.

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