Page 44 of Made for Reign

The urge to mark her, to bite her neck or leave fingerprints on her hips, is almost overpowering. I know I can’t, not here in public, but I do let my hand slide from the car roof down to the curve of her ass, squeezing once before I step back.

“Drive safe,” I tell her.

She nods, and her fingers are trembling as she gets into the Mercedes. She closes the door and looks up at me through the glass, eyes locked on my face until she finally turns the key and the engine hums to life. I watch her leave, not moving until her taillights disappear around the curve of the lot and out onto the main street.

TEN

AUDREY

I get backto my house from the Piney Creek Diner a little after nine AM, and I’m practically floating on air. My fingers drift to the chain around my neck as I climb the stone steps to the front door, and I feel the outline of Reign’s dog tags beneath my shirt.

I’d almost forgotten what it felt like to believe things could change, that I had choices beyond the ones handed to me by Lucille and Gio. But Reign makes it seem possible.

The thing I love most about Reign is the way he always seems so sure about everything. He doesn’t need my help or my permission. He just acts. It’s the complete opposite of every other relationship in my life, where I’m expected to manage emotions and smooth over problems and make everyone else comfortable.

“Miss Audrey?” Our housekeeper Maria appears in the foyer as I close the door behind me. “Lucille is looking for you. She’s in the morning room.”

My stomach clenches. “Did she say what she needed?”

“Something about your travel arrangements for tomorrow.” Maria’s expression is carefully neutral, but I catch the sympathy in her eyes. She’s worked for our family long enough to know what these “travel arrangements” really mean.

“Thank you, Maria.”

I make my way through the house and when I step into the morning room, Lucille is seated at her antique writing desk with her laptop open and her phone pressed to her ear. She holds up one finger when she sees me, indicating I should wait.

“Yes, the penthouse suite will be perfect,” she says. “And please ensure the champagne is Dom Pérignon. My daughter has very particular tastes.”

I hover near the doorway, listening to her arrange my life with the same efficiency she uses to plan charity galas. Every detail predetermined, every moment scheduled. No room for spontaneity or personal preference.

“Wonderful. We’ll see you tomorrow afternoon.” She ends the call and turns to me with a satisfied smile. “All set for Denver. The bridal salon is expecting us at ten sharp Friday morning.”

“Great.” I force enthusiasm into my voice. “I should probably go pack.”

“Actually, I’ve taken the liberty of having your wardrobe selected and packed already. Patricia from the boutique came by this morning with several options for the various appointments.”

Of course, she did. Even my clothes for this trip have been chosen for me.

“That was thoughtful,” I manage.

Lucille studies me for a moment, her gaze sharp. “You seem different today.”

Panic flutters in my chest. “Do I?”

“Yes. More...energetic.”

“I’m just excited about the trip,” I lie smoothly. “It’ll be nice to get away for a few days.”

“Hmm.” She doesn’t look entirely convinced, but she lets it slide. “Well, don’t get too comfortable with the freedom.We have a very packed schedule. The dress appointments, the cake tasting, the final venue walkthrough. Plus, dinner with the Castellanos. They’re flying in specifically to meet you.”

More business connections. More performances. More people evaluating whether I’m suitable for their precious family alliance.

“I’ll be ready,” I promise.

“See that you are. And Audrey?” Her voice takes on that edge I know so well. “I expect you to be enthusiastic about all of this. Engaged. This isn’t just about finding a dress.”

Ugh.

“Of course, Lucille.”

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