The Prince's Bride (Part 1) - J.J. McAvoy Page 0,101

scarf just for the night. That was a conversation I would have at another time. I didn’t have any pretty lingerie or anything like that, but I also didn’t want to look like I was trying too hard. I had on a satin top and short bottoms, which were at least two years old, but I had never worn them.

Knock. Knock.

“Come in,” I said, walking out of my bathroom.

When he did, he was dressed in long black satin pants and a simple gray V-neck shirt. His blue-green eyes followed the length of my legs all the way up to my chest, where they stayed for a moment before finally, his gaze met mine.

“I...I came to say goodnight.”

“What?” He wasn’t staying?

“I will be staying in my room tonight.”

Are you kidding me? I spent almost an hour fixing my hair alone, and he wouldn’t stay with me? Did he not know how much effort it takes to look nice for bed?

“So...um...goodnight,” he said to me.

“Wait,” I said, walking to the door.

His eyes looked glazed over when I neared him.

“Why?”

“I’m sorry?” he asked.

“Why don’t you want to stay?” I asked.

“Do you not see me? I’m aching to stay, Odette.”

“So, why are you leaving?”

He reached out, placing his hand on my cheeks. “I promised I would pull you close and then give you space, remember? Today, we became husband and wife. I am sure you will need time to panic later. I do not want to add to it by taking you tonight.”

A chill went through me as he said, take me.

“Gale.”

“Please do not tempt me, Odette,” he said softly, his hand falling from my cheek to the side of my chest, his arms brushing the skin of my stomach.

“Okay. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight...wife.” He smiled, stepping away, and so did I, closing the door.

Leaning on it, I closed my eyes, taking in deep breaths until I felt the drumming of his hand on my back.

Knock. Knock.

“Yes?” I asked as I opened the door to find his hands were on the frames beside me. I didn’t get a chance to ask him why before his hands were on my face, and his lips were on my lips. Our bodies pressed up against each other. I couldn’t help but moan into him. Just as quickly as he started, he let go.

“That should get me through the night,” he whispered, kissing my shoulder then abruptly turning and leaving.

I couldn’t help but laugh. I called out to him, “That might work for you, but what about me?”

He stood at his door at the opposite end of the hall, grinning. “To come out dressed like that, you deserve to suffer a little bit!”

“Oh, I see. Fine. I am never going to get dressed up for you ever again.”

“Yes, like you were never going to marry me?” He snickered.

I glared.

He winked.

So, I closed the door.

What in the world were we doing? And why did my cheeks hurt so much? Was it all the smiling? What was wrong with me? I put my hand on my chest, and there went my heart, drumming like it was part of a rock ’n’ roll festival. Taking my phone, I moved onto my bed and called the only person I knew crazier than me.

“Sweetheart, I was just going to call you. How was your birthday? Did you enjoy—”

“I married him, Mom,” I cut in, unable to hold it in.

“I am sorry. Repeat that.”

“I married—”

“Ahh!” she screamed so loudly through the phone that I flinched and had to pull it from my ear. Even with the distance, I could still hear her! “I knew you were my daughter! I just knew you would never let me down! Haha!”

“Mom, you’re supposed to be mad and hurt that I eloped! And say something like ‘How could you do something like that without me being there?’ Instead, you’re cheering and hooting.”

“Oh, please. Do you think the royal family will accept that as your wedding? When the real day comes, I will be walking you down the aisle dressed in white.”

I rolled my eyes. “Are you going to wear your crown and sash, too?”

“Can I?”

“Mom, you’re ridiculous.” I laughed, lying back on the pillow.

“And you are a princess.”

I remembered what Gale told me. “Technically, I’m not. Gale said I would be a duchess—”

“You are married to a prince, so you are a princess. I don’t care what anyone else says.”

“There’s no point in arguing with you.”

“Wait...tonight is technically your wedding night. Why are you talking to me instead of being with