Page 111 of Bewitched By the Djinn
“You good?” I ask.
“Better now.” He crosses the room and drops a kiss to the top of my head, setting lunch on the table, then peers over my shoulder at the dusty scroll I’m unfurling. “That looks cursed.”
“It’s a map.” I reach into the basket, pulling out a square item wrapped in linen. Mmm. Sandwich. “To a vault of lost sculptures, probably. Maybe cursed and valuable.”
“Perfect.”
I take a bite of food and chew. “You sure you’re okay with me being the weird history geek in the tower while you help run the kingdom?”
“As long as the weird history geek marries me eventually, I don’t care where she lives.”
I grin. “Deal.”
Outside, bells chime, signaling the hour. In a few days, we’ll be celebrating Helen and Delores with firelight and feasts. In a few months, maybe it’ll be our turn. But right now, I have a dusty scroll, a castle to explore, and a prince who feeds me.
Turns out, happily ever afters aren’t so bad after all.
Especially when he kisses me like this.
Bennet brushes a crumb from the corner of my mouth with his thumb, his touch lingering. “You’ve got ink on your face.”
“Occupational hazard.”
He leans closer. “I like you like this, smelling of parchment and ham.”
“You’re such a nerd.” My breath catches as his mouth finds the hollow beneath my ear. I set the food on the table away from the scrolls.
“And you’re mine,” he says against my skin. His hands slide around my waist, pulling me into his lap as I laugh, startled and breathless.
The table creaks behind us, scrolls and sandwich forgotten as his lips find mine, the kiss starting slow but deepening quickly,like he’s trying to memorize every inch of me all over again. My fingers tangle in his shirt, tugging him closer.
“I thought you had meetings,” I murmur between kisses.
“I canceled them,” he says, voice rough with affection. “For research purposes.”
I arch an eyebrow. “Oh? What kind of research?”
His grin is wicked. “Extensive. Hands-on. Involves a very thorough exploration of my fiancée.”
“Well, as a scholar,” I feign seriousness even as he lifts me onto the table, “I feel obligated to assist.”
Outside, the bells keep chiming, and the sun slants golden through the windows. Somewhere down the hall, Helen is probably barking orders about seating arrangements.
But here, in this moment, it’s only us.
No rituals. No war. No looming shadows.
Just magic. And love. And a future that is full of promise, humor, and each other.
The End
