Total pages in book: 44
Estimated words: 41243 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 206(@200wpm)___ 165(@250wpm)___ 137(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 41243 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 206(@200wpm)___ 165(@250wpm)___ 137(@300wpm)
I wrap both of them in my arms. “Don’t thank me. It’s my fault–”
“No, it’s not. All that matters is that we’re safe now. You’re here. And I knew–” She catches my gaze again, snowflakes swirling into her hair. “I knew you’d come for me. I knew I’d be just fine. All I had to do was wait for you. So I did.”
“That’s my good girl.” Fuck, it feels so good to have her in my arms. It feels right. Like it was always meant to be this way. “I love you, May. I love you so fucking much.” It just slips out, the words my heart has been beating for days now.
She’s quiet for a moment, then laughs a little.
My heart sinks.
“You can’t say ‘I told you so’ when it comes to love.” … “No, you can’t.” … “No–ugh, Mousey.”
I realize she’s arguing with the cat at the same moment she looks up at me again and says, “I love you, too.”
Have I ever soared this high? I don’t think so. I didn’t think it was possible until this very moment. I kiss her fully, taking all of her and giving her all of me. Mousey wriggles between us and jumps down. Lennie screams again, but I ignore him and bend May back, forcing her to rely on me and nothing else to hold her up.
She sighs against my lips and wraps her arms around my neck, surrendering to this kiss, to this impossible love. I kiss her until I feel like every part of me might burst from sheer happiness. Then something creaks, and the ground lights up.
I whirl, shoving May behind me as I face the newly opened front doors of the chateau.
“I was wondering if you’d arrive before the storm,” a woman calls and strides down the steps. Her wide hat catches the snow, and she looks past me.
“All this, Sorcha? You did all this?” Mrs. Farrol walks past me, her back ramrod straight and her chin in the air. “What game are you playing, and where’s my sweet prince?”
A white blur races past us.
“Mousey!” May calls, but I don’t let her go. I have one hand squeezing her hip and keeping her behind me, out of harm’s way. Then she gasps, “Carson! She found him! He’s just inside.”
“He’s safe and warm inside.” Sorcha walks closer, now almost nose to nose with Mrs. Farrol, her large hat shielding them both from the snow. “And this isn’t a game. Not anymore. Please come in.”
“No.” Mrs. Farrol puts her hands on her hips. “What were you thinking? Sending a goon to attack us?”
“I admit he’s a goon, but he had no orders to attack you.” Sorcha’s tone turns displeased. “He was only meant to throw you off the scent so I had more time to–”
“To what?” Mrs. Farrol cries. “Hurt my darling prince? Send me cavorting across the globe? What, Sorcha?”
“More time to prepare. I had so many grand plans. I wanted you to know exactly how I–”
“Enough!” Mrs. Farrol yells. “You tell me right here and right now why you’ve–”
Her voice is cut off as Sorcha grabs her and plants a kiss squarely on her mouth.
Mrs. Farrol makes a surprised squeak as Sorcha embraces her, holding her close and never letting up on her kiss.
Then, as if drugged, Mrs. Farrol melts. She goes lax in Sorcha’s arms and tilts her head to the side, kissing her back, both of them wrapped in each other.
“Inside,” May whispers. “Come on.”
I let her take my hand and lead me past the lovers, the two of them too involved to even notice us. The chateau is warm and decorated in holiday greenery, the air spiced with cinnamon and sweetness. A huge Christmas tree glitters beside a wide fireplace, the flames inside crackling happily as the snow intensifies outside.
Up ahead, Mousey and the cat from the painting are grooming each other. He’s … well, to be kind, I’ll say he’s ‘unique-looking.’
“Look at that.” May beams. “It’s love under the mistletoe.”
I glance up. She’s right; a swag of mistletoe hangs from a chandelier overhead.
“I suppose–” She lets out a sad sigh. “I suppose the case is solved. It’s over.”
“It is.”
“So that means …” She trails off, her eyes downcast.
I pull her around to face me. “It means that now you and I can spend the holidays together without working on a case.”
Her eyes brighten. “Really?”
“May, you’re never getting rid of me.” I walk her backwards until we’re under the mistletoe.
“Do you promise?” She licks her lips.
“Count on it.” I glance up then back to her sweet mouth. “May I?”
She bites her bottom lip, her cheeks going a beautiful rosy shade. “You never have to ask.”
“That’s my girl.” I kiss her again, sharing my passion with her, showing her who I am, showing her that I’m hers, forever.