Page 451 of Bad Prince
I lean back into him before I can stop myself.
“Maybe I noticed the ocean first.”
He hums like he doesn’t believe me.
Then, because he is somehow determined to kill me with details today, he says, “I ordered room service. We can eat out here while we get ready.”
I turn in his arms, blinking up at him.
“While we get ready.”
He nods once.
“Mm-hmm.”
My brows rise.
“You planned dinner on the terrace too?”
His expression shifts into that soft, dangerous satisfaction that seems to come over him whenever he catches me underestimating him.
“Baby,” he says, “I planned everything.”
That should be illegal.
I follow him back inside like someone under the influence, because I basically am. He crosses to the bedroom area, where two garment bags are laid out over the bench at the foot of the bed with matching boxes beside them.
I stop again.
“Tristan.”
He glances back at me.
“What?”
“You’re making it impossible to stay emotionally stable.”
His smile turns warm and crooked.
“That’s not really the goal tonight.”
He unzips the first garment bag and turns it so I can see.
I forget how to breathe.
It’s my dress.
Not literally.
But close enough to feel like a memory translated by someone with too much money and perfect taste.
Dark blue—deeper than navy, richer than midnight. The same slender lines. The same whisper of a silhouette. The same feeling of being something half dangerous and half dreamlike under low light.
Only this one is better.
“How—?”
“Leo’s Insta—till had pictures from that night…Jade found the closest dress she could...”
