Page 141 of The Thing About My Prince
“I assume you’re not going to tell me wherethereis?”
“Nope.” He kisses my temple and climbs out of the car.
I follow him out to see another black car pull in behind us and Cole and Dane get out.
“Hey, guys,” I say.
They nod back politely, eyes everywhere but on me.
Oliver takes my hand, places it in the crook of his elbow, and leads me into the park.
“Are we going to the Boathouse for dinner?”
“Questions, questions, questions,” he says. “Always the journalist.”
“Not anymore. Well, I am. Just not in the way I always thought I would be.”
“Do you feel like you’ve lost something? Like a part of you?” he asks. “Because if you do, you can back out of our production company and get a job any time you like. There is no way I want to stand between you and the career dreams you’ve had since you were a kid.”
He stops and turns me to face him. “I need you to know that I will never hold you back. Whatever work you want to do, I will support you all the way. And if that’s not working with me, I’d be disappointed, but I’d be more disappointed if it turned out you felt unfulfilled every day and wished you were somewhere else.”
I cup his beautiful face in my hand, stroke the line of his cheekbone and the stubble along his jaw. “I promise if that ever happens, I’ll let you know. But I’m pretty sure it won’t. I have never been more excited about a work project in my life.”
“It’s a long way from writing my memoir.”
“Maybe one day we’ll get back to that. And do it on our own terms.”
“And not because we bothhaveto.”
“Exactly.” I circle my arms around his neck. “It’s funny how priorities you thought were vitally important can change more suddenly than you expect. Right now, the thought of being a war correspondent seems so alien I almost can’t imagine I ever had it. But that’s probably because working on the documentary series with you every day means I get to achieve all the things I always wanted to achieve, just in a different way. And, bonus, I get to do it with the man of my dreams by my side.”
“Man of your dreams, huh.” And there is that sexy smirk that could melt my panties off me right here and now if it weren’t for the fact it’s a chilly late November evening and Dane and Cole are standing about twenty feet away.
Oliver’s lips press softly against mine, and I sink into their warmth.
He breaks away with a pat on my butt, then takes my hand. “Come on, I’m hungry.”
“So…arewe going to the Boathouse?”
“How about you stop trying to figure it out and just go where I take you?”
And, for the first time in my life, it crosses my mind that I probably won’t go too far wrong if I follow that advice—not only this evening, but way beyond it.
“Here we are,” Oliver says as we walk up the steps to Belvedere Castle, the building in the center of the park that is part gift shop, part lookout tower, one hundred percent fairy tale.
“There’s no restaurant here. And isn’t it closed at this time of the evening?”
In response, he pushes the door open and raises his eyebrows at me. “Usually.”
“What’s going on?”
“This way.” He leads me to the back and the spiral stone staircase to the tower. “You go first. That way I get to stare at your ass, and I’ve been dreaming of that for weeks.”
With a giggle, I do as he says, and at the top we emerge onto a square terrace with views over the dark park. The spectacular scenery is dotted with the lights that line the paths and surrounded by the city buildings lit up against the night sky.
But then I spot something not normally here.
“Oh my God.” My hand flies to my mouth. “What’s that?”
