"Aurora, I have to go downstairs. Maxwell has arrived, and he's specifically requesting my presence. I'm sure you can come down on your own. It's not like you're getting married and need an escort, right?" Angel teased, smirking as she adjusted her dress.
"Of course, Angel. Go ahead. I'll be down in a minute I just have to make a quick call," I replied, trying to hide the strange flutter in my chest. I quickly dialed Miss Donatella. "Hello? Hi, Miss Donatella I'm so grateful to you. The gown is absolutely stunning. And don't worry, I'll make sure the press knows exactly who designed this masterpiece."
"Thank you so much, Aurora," she cooed. "But… will the press even be at your party?"
I paused, her question striking a nerve. "That's… a good question. I'm sure they will be. This feels more like a business party than anything else."Well, my princess, enjoy your evening," she said warmly. "Thanks again. Bye." Just then, Trisha appeared in the doorway. "Ma'am Aurora, your presence is requested downstairs."
"Alright, I'll be there in a sec," I said, smoothing the fabric of my gown. I began descending the staircase, my heels clicking softly against the polished marble. My heart thudded, not from nerves, but from the weight of so many eyes waiting below. Thankfully, the main hall was far enough from the stairs that no one could see me yet.
I kept my head high, but just as I reached the final step… my heel caught. My body pitched forward —
And then, strong arms wrapped around my waist.
The scent of cedarwood and something darker, more intoxicating, surrounded me. My gaze snapped upward… and collided with a pair of piercing hazel eyes.For a moment, I forgot how to breathe. His face was a cruel work of perfection sharp jawline, aristocratic nose, thick lashes framing those magnetic eyes. His lips… God, those lips.
He knew exactly the effect he was having on me. The faint smirk tugging at his mouth said as much. His tall frame loomed over me, but instead of stepping back, he leaned in just enough for his breath to graze my cheek. My pulse roared in my ears. It was only when my gaze flicked to his Armani suit that I froze. Turquoise. The exact shade of my gown.We matched.
I straightened abruptly, shoving away from him. "Who are you? And how dare you touch me?" He chuckled, low and maddening. "Shouldn't you be grateful, pretty miss?" His voice was a warm, deep rumble that sent an involuntary shiver down my spine. I am grateful you kept me from falling," I snapped, glaring at him. "But that doesn't give you the right to trap me like that."He raised an eyebrow. "Oh, so it's my fault now? I'm sorry, but it's hardly my fault I was born handsome. That's God's handiwork, not mine."
I stared at him, resisting the urge to roll my eyes. "A demi-god, huh? How charming."
With one last glare, I turned and swept past him.
Behind me, his voice was a dark whisper meant only for himself. "My little wife has an attitude. Figures. What else could I expect from Charles's daughter? Spoilt. Rotten to the core."A faint smile tugged at his lips. "Let's see her face when her father announces our marriage."