Page 136 of Princess of Pride
“Oh.” Kingston smiles, and I almost drop dead.
Seriously, what is it with men and their smiles? Why do they look sexier and even more gorgeous?
Meanwhile, women are always trying to show the right amount of teeth, not smile too big, get the right angle, etc. It’s exhausting.
After I met Kingston in person for the first time, I totally understood Adelaide’s infatuation with him. And when I saw them together, I knew she’d never have to worry about losing him again. That man isn’t going anywhere without her. I think he’d cheat death just to stay with her.
“Is Lachlan around?” he asks. “I wanted to say goodbye.”
“I believe he’s…” I search the terrace and pool area, spotting him stepping into the lawn in the direction of the random guests who are left. I point at him. “Right there.”
My phone dings.
I take it from my pocket.
Mom: I left with Pippa to help her with the baby. See you soon.
Classic.
I lower my phone.
“Is everything okay?” Adelaide asks.
My gaze drifts to my gorgeous husband in his light gray fitted pants and white dress shirt, his dark chocolate hair tousled away from his face, making him look like a sexy European billionaire from a dark romance. “Everything is perfect.”
We walk to Lachlan as he joins the crowd and say our goodbyes to Adelaide and Kingston.
When everyone is gone and it’s just us, we enter the house through the back doors that lead to the Tiffany blue and silver formal living room where a baby grand piano sits to the left.
Lachlan tells the head housekeeper we’re retiring for the night and to send up wine and a charcuterie board.
“Right away,” Margo says.
She’s so much like Lorna; Ihadto hire her when I met her.
In the French marble entry, I stop at the bottom of the steps and take off my shoes. Before I can straighten, Lachlan swoops me up into his arms.
I squeal and drop my heels. They hit with light thuds. “Lachlan, my shoes!”
He starts up the stairs. “One of the staff will find them and bring them to you.”
“You’re so controlling.”
“And you love it.” His lips tilt with a smirk at one corner.
I open my mouth to argue, but I can’t. He’s right. I have a love/hate relationship with his controlling behavior. I love it and hate that I do.
“I have a surprise for you.”
“Is it your cock?”
He almost stumbles at the top of the curving staircase.
I’m shocked.
“That mouth of yours needs to be taught a lesson.”
I’m all for this lesson, still I say, “I burnt my mouth on the food. It’s really bad.”
