Page 59 of Royal Catch
Some people say I rushed into things with Anna. Those people are wrong. I’ve been waiting my whole life for her, and now that she’s here, I can’t wait to start our life together. I’m the first to admit she’s a unique addition to the family, outspoken and not always aware of the proper protocol. Still, you can’t help but love her; even the queen has warmed up to her most eager student. After wrapping things up at home, Anna spent the last two weeks working very closely with my mother, learning our traditions and royal expectations. They planned this ball together to celebrate our engagement.
Anna’s floor-length gown is emerald green. A halter top goes up to her neck, revealing no cleavage but fitting perfectly to her curves. Her wild dark curls are pulled away from her face by a glittering diamond headband, the length of her hair cascading down her back. The princesses from the barbaric competition were invited—Anna’s idea. They all declined, as I predicted. They don’t want their noses rubbed in their loss. All of my family is here and many of the nobility, who’ve long been friendly with Villroy.
I watch Anna follow my mother around, greeting guests. She’s irresistibly charming in her bubbly vivacious way. In more good news, my father seems reinvigorated by our upcoming wedding. He wants to be there to see it. Anna visits him daily, entertaining him with stories of her clients back home and all of their quirks. He finds her “refreshing.” She even gave him a haircut. Only Anna would’ve dared ask.
I cross the room to reclaim her, having waited long enough for her queen-in-training routine with my mother. “May I have this dance?”
She beams at me and does a graceful curtsy. “I’d love that!” She can’t contain her natural enthusiasm, and I never want her to. I love that about her.
I crook my arm and guide her to the dance floor. The orchestra smoothly transitions to a slow song. I wrap an arm around her waist, take her hand, and lead her in a slow box step. More couples join us.
She feels up my shoulder. “Have I mentioned how handsome you look in a tux?”
“You have, but feel free to mention it again.”
She squeezes my bicep. “Outrageously handsome. Are you having a good time? I haven’t seen you crack a smile. You probably didn’t notice, but I’ve been secretly spying on you from across the room.”
“I’m having a good time now.”
She hugs me in her spontaneous way before returning to our dance position. I can’t remember ever feeling so loved. Her brown eyes sparkle at me the way they do when she has an idea.
“What?”
She flashes a smile. “I was thinking since it takes two morelongmonths to plan a proper royal wedding—”
“Which is as short a time as I could make it.”
“Yes, I know you can’t wait to tie me down. Ha! Remember—”
“Shh, darling.” I pull her close and whisper in her ear, “Of course I remember tying you down, but if you start talking about that here, you’re going to get me in anunseemlystate just thinking about it.”
“Unseemly.” She fights back a laugh and loses. She looks up at me, flushed pink and smiling. “Oh, Gabriel, sometimes you just come out with the funniest things.” She kisses my cheek and resumes our dance. “Anyway, the renovation on our royal fantasy guest suite should be done by the time our wedding finally rolls around, knock on wood—” she knocks on her head “—and I think we should spend our wedding night there to try it out.”
“Done.”
“You’re so easygoing!”
I’m not. I never have been, but I’ll do anything for her. She’s given up her home, her career, her dream to own her own salon, and her privacy. I will do anything and everything in my power to bring her happiness in the new life she’s chosen with me.
I cradle her face with one hand and kiss her. She throws her arms around my neck and returns the kiss enthusiastically. When she finally lets me up for air, she glances around, noticing all eyes are on us. She quickly wipes the edges of my lips, probably rubbing off her red lipstick.
“I forgot,” she whispers, “public displays of affection are frowned upon.”
“It’s our engagement party. What better time to celebrate our love?”
She beams at me. “I love you, Gabriel Rourke.”
“And I love you, Anna Hebert soon-to-be Rourke.”
She sighs happily. “Did I tell you I’ve already booked a ladies’ week in the new royal guest suite?”
“No. What if it’s not ready?”
“I’ll jump in with my own tool belt if I have to. But I’m not worried. I’ll be supervising all the contractors personally.”
“Okay, and who are the lucky guests?”
“My best wealthiest clients back home. They’re coming for a week for beauty treatments by me—hair, nails, facials.” She lowers her voice conspiratorially. “They’re very attached to me. The relationship with your hairdresser is sacred.”
