Laughter explodes through my lips. “It’s too soon for that much crazy. I might hurt you!”
He kisses my neck again. “I can’t think of a better way to go.”
“Don’t say that!” Squirming out of his arms, I push him onto his back to examine his side. “You’re getting better.”
He props on his elbows and looks down at the ugly wound where Wade Paxton stuck that horrible knife into his side and almost killed him. Thank God it lodged in a rib instead of puncturing his lung. He lost so much blood. Freddie and his team searched for almost an hour before finding him.
“I thought losing a finger was the worst pain I’d ever felt.” I recline beside him, looking deep in his warm hazel eyes. “I can’t live without you, MacCallum Lockwood Tate.”
My throat aches, and he rolls toward me, into a kiss. It’s long and slow, just lips, pulling, chasing.
“Shh,” he says against my cheek. “Those days are behind us. It’s all good things now.”
It’s true. Wade Paxton had been found guilty of conspiracy to assassinate Rowan, of ordering Blix Ratcliffe to shoot Ava, kill Seth, and kidnap me. Cal wasn’t even questioned in his death. It had been dismissed as self-defense.
The bad blood between Totrington and Monagasco will likely continue, but the imminent threats appear to be gone. Except for Blix, who has dis
appeared. Logan and Freddie are determined to find him.
Rowan’s coronation ceremony was last week, and today, my little sister will become his wife, the Queen Consort.
“Ava will be the most amazing queen,” I say with a little smile as his lips trace a path down my neck. “I’m so proud of her.”
“We can finally go home.” He lifts my shirt to kiss one breast then the other before moving down to my stomach. “Ready to go home, princess?”
I exhale a delighted laugh, threading my fingers into his hair. He continues his trail of kisses, moving downward, and I arch back, closing my eyes as we spend the next several minutes waking up my favorite way.
* * *
Ava’s hands shake so hard, she can’t put on her eyeliner. “Give me that,” I say, stepping around in front of her.
“I am freaking out,” she says in a low voice, glancing around the room at the laughing and chatting ladies in waiting. “Everyone in the world is going to be watching us today—and if they don’t, it’ll be on the Internet, and they’ll watch it over and over for the rest of eternity!”
“Now that is one sure way to make yourself crazy.” I’m holding the liner-pen, drawing a dramatic swoosh over her striking emerald eyes. “You are going to be fine. Your dress is gorgeous, you are gorgeous, and all you have to do is walk down there and say ‘I do.’”
“I have to say a little more than that.” She steps back to face the mirror, and I straighten the front of her long, flowing skirt. The lace across her bodice is so delicate, and the spaghetti straps are perfectly fitted to her elegant shoulders.
I’m wearing a sky blue dress made in a similar design as Ava’s. It’s mid-thigh length with a swishy, flowing skirt. The cut is empire waist to allow for my growing baby bump, and it has a sweetheart neckline and delicate, cap sleeves.
“It’s all a bunch of repeat after me stuff,” I say.
“Help me with this tiara.”
The unique headpiece is in the shape of a large flower at her temple and covered in dozens of sparkling diamonds. It extends over her head like a headband, and her long hair hangs in flowing waves down her back.
“You look amazing.” I can’t help it. Tears heat my eyes.
“Oh!” she cries. “Don’t cry! You’ll make me cry!” I rush to the window and snatch up the tissue box.
“Quick—look up at the ceiling and do math in your head.” Her brow wrinkles.
“Does that work?”
That makes me laugh. “Even if it doesn’t, you’re not crying now.”
“I’m too nervous to cry.”
The queen enters the room at that point, and everyone stops chattering and bows. Ava and I do a brief curtsey, and she waves dismissively. She’s dressed in a blue one-piece sheath with a long, matching coat on top. A small blue hat with a matching netted veil is on her head, and that ever-present, three-stranded pearl necklace is beneath her collar.