Last Name - Dr. Rebecca Sharp Page 0,62

between our lips.

I sighed against him. Into him. His confession… his kiss… finally tipped the scales between fear and the future I wanted.

Maybe there would be talk. Maybe there would be hurdles.

But James showed me that none of it mattered. He showed me that this love was worth all those risks.

And he proved it to me with this kiss.

The one where all the bets were placed. Where all the cards were bared.

Where probabilities and calculations no longer mattered because everything we had was on the table.

And James and I… we were going all in.

“Now, mademoiselle, we need to get back on that boat,” he rasped as he broke from the kiss. “And then, I need to get you back into bed.”

Six months later

“Can you take a photo of us?”

“James!” I yelled and then covered my mouth as I laughed. “We can just take a selfie!”

My shoulders bounced as I continued to laugh as my very handsome boyfriend—wearing his beret—walked up to a group of French women and begged them to take our photo in front of the Eiffel Tower.

The real one.

The last six months had been filled with so many adventures. After Lars’ wedding, James bought that lake house in Tahoe and made the LT Hotel and Casino his home base while I continued to grow and expand the job I’d been hired to do.

Yes. People talked.

Other employees talked.

But they talked about how their boss, who made sure they had free coffee every morning and who snuck his girlfriend kisses every chance he got, had fallen in love with her outside the Bellagio in Las Vegas.

Without knowing who she was or where she worked.

Without knowing her last name.

It turned out that the truth of our fairy tale was far more fascinating and a tale worth telling than a past that had no place.

And after that, we began recreating our photos from that night in Vegas, only at the real locations rather than the mocked-up versions.

“Alright, we’ve only got a few minutes,” James told me as he jogged back over to me, holding his beret steady.

I glanced behind me at the sparkling structure. We were standing on the banks of the Seine, and this was the photo I’d been looking forward to for months.

In Paris. In front of the real Eiffel Tower. With the love of my life.

The monument lit up like a glittering disco ball for the last ten minutes of every hour each night, and James had refused to take any other photo in front of it until we took this one.

“You really didn’t need to ask them,” I chided as he stopped in front of me with the biggest smile on his face.

My insides fluttered and heat spread between my thighs, knowing a whole different kind of adventure awaited us back in our hotel room later.

He reached out and grabbed my waist, pulling me close.

“I did,” he insisted, his head dropping. “I love you, Carrie.”

His gaze was so intense, so full of love that it stole my breath.

“I love you, too,” I murmured, adding, as I turned to look at the woman with the camera, “We should probably—”

I broke off when I felt him move, and when I looked back, James wasn’t standing in front of me anymore.

He was kneeling.

I gasped loudly, vaguely recognizing the rapid clicks of the camera. My eyes drew wide when James pulled out a ring box from his pocket and popped the velvet lid open, revealing a large, oval-cut yellow diamond.

“James…”

“I love you, Carrie Bishop,” he beamed. “You stole my heart, and you would make me the luckiest man in the world if you’d agree to share my last name and be my wife.” He paused with a boyish grin. “For real this time.”

I laughed even as tears of joy streaked down my cheeks, the most incredible happiness bubbling from my lips.

“Y-Yes,” I gurgled, nodding frantically. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”

He seemed so confident, so sure, until I caught the slight waver in his hand as he went to slide the ring on my finger, and I knew that my gorgeous fake Frenchman had been nervous.

I admired the sparkling gem for a moment before I turned my attention to the real object of worth—the man who’d given it to me.

“I love you, James.”

He cupped my face and slanted his mouth over mine, possessive and loving at the same time.

“You make me so happy.”

I wound my arms around his neck, kissing him again, only deeper this time. “I can’t believe you did this.”

“I can’t believe