Page 113 of That Prince is Mine
“Yes,” he roared. “I would’ve done anything if it meant I could have you back. You. Come. First.” His anger seeped out of him. What right did he have to be angry? “Don’t you see? Nothing matters if I can’t be with you. I am nothing without you.”
Emma’s face crumpled, and he caught her in his arms as her legs gave out. He carried her to his bed and sat down with her in his lap. He gathered her against him, tucking her head under his chin. She was crying into his chest with sharp, broken sobs.
“Shh.” He kissed her forehead. “Hush, darling Emma. I love you. Everything will be all right. Hush now.”
“I… I love you, too.” She hiccupped. “And I didn’t… I didn’t mean what I said about you not sacrificing anything. Love isn’t about measuring how much we give up for each other.” She cut him off when he tried to argue. “It isn’t. Love is about being there for each other in the best way we can. It’s about making sure that we are happy together.
“Getting angry at you for having Isabelle as your backup plan was just an excuse.” She buried her face in his chest. “Who am I to judge you when I told you that you were just my ‘break’ from matseons?”
“I wouldn’t have married Isabelle even if you wouldn’t have me,” he said in a rush. “You’re the only one for me, Emma.”
“And there is no one for me but you.” Fresh tears filled her eyes as she gazed up at him. “I was so afraid of our love fading—so afraid of losing you—that I… I ran away. But I’ll never run away from our love again. I belong to you as you belong to me. That will never change.”
She cupped his cheek and looked into his eyes with such love that there was nothing he could do but kiss her. The soft, tender brushes of their lips soon became hungry and greedy. He drove his tongue into her hot, wet mouth and claimed her. Mine, mine, mine. And she claimed him right back to his great satisfaction. He was hers. All hers.
Michel laid her on the bed and covered her body with his, taut and aching. He needed to make her come. First, on his hand. Then against his tongue. He grabbed at her dress with fumbling fingers, but she clamped a hand over his. Stopping immediately, he rose onto his elbow and stared down at her flushed face.
“What is it, my love?” he asked, his breath coming in rough pants.
“Your father,” she said, equally breathless. “You told him you’d go talk to him.”
“Yes, of course.” With great regret, he lifted his body off hers and lay down next to her. “But remind me. What was I supposed to talk to him about?”
“Tell him that neither you nor Isabelle want to marry each other.” She explained his own mind to him with great patience. “Tell him you are in love with me, and you intend to marry me and no one else.”
“Oh?” He turned his head to the side and grinned at her. “Is that all?”
“No, that is not all,” she said primly, although she couldn’t stop her dimple from winking enticingly at him. “You must also tell him that a brilliant botanist—namely, my father—will be coming to live with us in the palace.”
“That’s wonderful, Emma.” He reached out to run the back of his fingers down her cheek. “Your father is agreeable to moving to Rouleme?”
She nodded with tears in her eyes. “I talked to him on my flight over. He said he would be happy anywhere as long as he had me and a garden to tend.”
“He can have as much land as he wants,” Michel said promptly, grateful beyond words to his future father-in-law.
“Actually, my dad would be a great asset to the organic farming initiatives you want to implement.”
His eyebrows rose. “How do you know about my organic farming initiatives?”
“I eavesdropped on all your calls to Rouleme.” She smiled mischievously. “Did you really think I had no interest in who you were?”
“I didn’t know what to think.” He tapped her nose. “I could only hope—hope that you would agree to be mine.”
“You’re making it really hard for me not to kiss you again.” She crinkled her nose in an adorable scowl. “But you would never make it to your father’s chambers in time if I did that.”
“We could be quick.” He grinned rakishly at her.
“Not on your life,” she said sternly. “We’re going to take our sweet time with our makeup sex. Now, shoo. Off you go. Go talk to your father.”
“Anything else I should mention?” He grudgingly got off the bed and straightened his clothes.
“That’s up to you.” She sat up with her legs folded beneath her. “But at no time—now or later—will you ever utter the word abdicate in any shape or form. Understood?”
“Understood. Thank you, Emma.” For choosing him. For not making him choose between her and his people. For loving him. All words he would save for later when he could properly express his gratitude. “Are you going to be all right while I’m gone?”
“I’ll be fine.” She grabbed his shirt and kissed him hard once before pushing him away. “Be gone, temptation. Sophie and Marion are going to be here in a minute to give me a crash course on palace etiquette.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Did Sophie have to bribe my cousin?”
