Page 92 of That Prince is Mine
Michel:
What could be wrong?
She wanted to call him and scream, I don’t know! You tell me! But in the end, she texted back, Haha. Nothing, I guess.
Except for the fact that he was leaving in less than a month and she loved him so much it hurt to breathe. Michel obviously didn’t have the same problem. What could be wrong? That clueless dingus. Her eyes and nose stung with impending tears. She sniffed them loudly away. Everything was okay. He’d just partied away the afternoon with his cousin. It didn’t seem like him, but she’d only known him for a little over a month. How would she know if he liked to let loose occasionally?
Emma:
The commercial kitchen was fantastic by the way. It’s everything I could’ve hoped for. I think I’m going to sign the lease agreement as soon as humanly possible.
She actually had no idea what she was going to do. She didn’t know what she wanted anymore. It terrified her. The one thing she could always count on was knowing what she wanted in life. She had everything figured out. Or so she’d thought. She wasn’t certain of anything anymore.
Michel:
She stared at his flippant response and grew more furious by the minute. He couldn’t pretend to care a tiny bit more about her freaking future? Didn’t he have any follow-up questions? Wasn’t he going to beg her not to sign the lease agreement and to come to Rouleme with him?
Emma gasped so loudly that she clapped a hand over her mouth even though she was alone. Go to Rouleme with him? Where the hell did that ludicrous thought come from? But if he asked… would she go with him? And then what? Become a princess? What about her dad? No. This line of thought could only lead to trouble.
She had to remember her original plan. Once Michel went back to Rouleme, she would marry the perfect-on-paper husband to protect Auntie Soo’s reputation and ensure the security of her own business. Emma would create a warm, secure home with her impeccably compatible match and make sure that her dad was well taken care of. That was the future she had decided on for herself.
Her godmother hadn’t mentioned once that Emma had promised to marry a man she matched her up with—that her matchmaking business depended on it. Auntie Soo just seemed genuinely happy that Emma had found someone. She couldn’t repay her godmother’s love and loyalty by scampering off to some foreign country to play princess. Not that Michel had ever implied that there could be a future for them.
A jagged fissure opened up in her heart. Enough is enough. She had to stick to her plan. That was the only way she was going to survive this.
Emma:
I’m planning a little cooking party to test out the kitchen. Will you, Sophie, and Gabriel come?
Michel:
I’ll ask them. As for me, it goes without saying that I’ll be there. I can’t wait to see your future cooking school. I know it’s going to be amazing.
The tight knot in Emma’s chest loosened a little. Of course he cared about her future. He cared about her. She would make sure that their remaining time together would be filled with enough happiness to last them a lifetime.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Michel had racked his brain and the internet to figure out what quintessential Los Angeles experience he could offer to a lifetime Angeleno. He had devoted his every free minute to planning a date to surprise Emma—and preferably sweep her off her feet—but he’d hit dead end after dead end until…
The Magic Castle.
It was a private clubhouse in Hollywood for members of the Academy of Magical Arts. Only members of the exclusive club and their invited guests were allowed access. After Sophie discreetly obtained intel that Emma had never been to the Magic Castle, Antoine had worked his magic to get a club board member to extend an invitation. While his assistant offered the option of simply buying out the club for the evening, Michel knew that Emma would prefer to experience the place with the hustle and bustle of other guests.
She had been intrigued when he invited her on a surprise date and decidedly thrilled when he informed her that the dress code for the night was “When in doubt, OVERDRESS!” Michel couldn’t help but smile as he walked up to her front door in his tuxedo. She always looked impeccable whatever the occasion. How would she look when she decided to overdress?
He rang the doorbell and rocked back on his heels as nerves and anticipation coursed through him. His mouth dropped open when Emma opened the door looking like a mermaid wrapped in shimmering gold. Even a lifetime of grooming couldn’t stop him from gaping at her like a complete fool. His only saving grace was that she looked equally dazed as she took him in, her eyes traveling from the top of his head to his toes, then back up again.
Michel managed to break free of his stupor long enough to whisper, “You look stunning.”
“And you need to wear that more often.” Emma bit her bottom lip. “Like every day.”
“Gabriel already gives me a hard time for overdressing to work.” Michel chuckled, his gaze traveling over her again. He couldn’t get over how beautiful she was. “He would have a field day if I showed up to lecture in a tuxedo.”
“That would be a bit over the top, I guess.” Her impish dimple jolted his heart into a gallop, and he considered taking her straight back to his hotel.
“As for you,” he growled, wrapping his arm around her waist and tugging her against him, “you cannot wear that dress unless you’re with me. It’s far too alluring.”
She arched a disapproving eyebrow at him even as she smoothed her hands over his chest and shoulders. “I cannot?”
