Page 34 of One Weekend in London

He moves behind me, his arms sliding around my waist, anchoring me against his chest. It’s a gesture I’m learning he favors, a declaration of his desire to keep me close.

“Let me show you the world, Sadie. Every corner, every hidden gem. With you by my side, everything seems brighter, more alive.”

A surge of emotion swells in my chest, threatening to overflow, taking with it the last of the walls protecting my heart.

“You hardly even know me and—”

“Bollocks!” My head spins when he turns me in his arms until we’re face-to-face, his eyes boring into mine with an intensity I haven’t seen from him before now. “We’ve already had this conversation, love, but allow me to reiterate. I know, with every fibre of my being, you’re the one I’ve been waiting for.”

His hand comes up, pinching my chin, his thumb caressing my skin with a tenderness that nearly undoes me. “Your heart, your kindness, the way you immediately lit up my world, snuffing out the lonely darkness the second you burst into it—that’s all I need to be certain of the way I feel.”

Tears blur my vision, my heart swelling with an emotion I dare not name.

“But I... This is all happening so fast.”

And here comes the anxiety-riddled verbal vomit, followed swiftly by my habitual overthinking. Seriously, why do I do this to myself?

“I want to believe everything you’re saying, everything I feel. But I’m terrified at any moment, I’ll wake up and find out it was all just a beautiful dream. That I’ll still be stuck in grief and hurt, with no signs of healing or breaking free. That my British Prince Charming didn’t really find me; that he isn’t truly determined to save me from the pain.”

“Then let me prove to you this is real.”

Backing me against the bow’s railing, nearly bending me over it, he sinks his hand into the hair at my nape, pinning me in place. My hands fly to his shoulders when he dips his head, capturing my lips in a kiss that douses my insides in accelerant and strikes a match, setting me on fire.

It’s a kiss that brands me—body and soul—a desperate promise of what could be.

That’s if I allow fate to have her way.

When we finally break apart, I’m left breathless and trembling, my lips swollen and aching as I cling to him like a lifeline. As if I’m drowning and he’s a lifesaving buoy, ready to keep me afloat.

“That felt... incredibly real.”

“Oh, believe me, we’re just getting started.” A wicked grin spreads across his handsome face, his eyes glinting with unfiltered mischief. See? Absolute menace. “But first, I need to see you laugh. I crave it, beautiful. More than I crave making love to you.”

Before I can respond, he sweeps me into his strong arms, and tosses me over his shoulder as if I weigh nothing. A surprised shriek escapes my lips, followed by a fit of genuine laughter as he spins me around, his own vibrating through me.

It’s an amazing feeling.

One I never want to lose.

Because in this moment, I suddenly feel lighter than I have in years, the weight of my past lifting from my shoulders with each of Rhys’s turns. It’s as if he’s awakened a part of me I wrongly thought was lost forever, buried beneath the rubble of my shattered heart and broken dreams. It’s now I start to suspect he truly is my missing puzzle piece.

The unexpected key to my redemption.

I don’t know how I ended up here—in a place that was only meant to serve as a temporary escape but has suddenly become much more. As the weekend’s minutes continue to count down, London is turning everything on its end by gifting me something I never thought would be possible again.

A possible second chance at love.

One day, with more time and shared moments spent at his side, I know I’d fall in love with Rhys Kensington. And maybe, just maybe, he could truly fall in love with me too. Only time will tell what the future truly has in store for us, but knowing that happily ever after may be in the cards for me after all makes my heart leap, practically somersaulting in my chest.

I can’t pass this—or him—up.

When he finally sets me back on my feet, we’re both giddy and breathless, our cheeks flushed from laughter. I feel like a kid again, standing atop the world. Impulsively riding the high he’s given me, I stretch up on my toes, pressing a soft kiss to his granitelike jaw.

An idea suddenly strikes, and I quickly reach into my barely-there pocket—yet another feature that makes this particular dress a favorite—and pull out my phone.

Tugging Rhys close, not that he seems to mind, I unabashedly snap a series of selfies, each one perfectly angled to capture the magic of the moment.

In the first, my head rests against his chest, his chin nestled atop my hair. The second shows him nuzzling my cheek, his eyes radiating pure contentment. The third captures him pressing a kiss to my temple, while in the fourth, he playfully nips at my neck, our laughter frozen in time.

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