Love in Fantasy (Skeleton Key) (10 page)

Cole holds her close as he leads, swirling and stepping in time to the music. Kinsey looks up in confusion, not understanding what’s happening. His face is soft and tender as he gazes down at her, and when he bends his head to brush his lips over hers, it leaves a delicious tingle behind. “Si belle,” he murmurs.
He thinks I’m beautiful?
Her valiant attempts to stay unaffected are failing miserably and she feels hope lift her heart.

It seems as though the whole world fades away, including the ballroom where they are dancing. Kinsey looks down and sees nothing but clouds at their feet. Cloud nine? Somebody is having too much fun with the realism of expressions. . .

Finally, the floor solidifies under their feet again and they stop spinning. Keeping her hand firmly clasped in his, he leads her out the front door to the relative quiet of the night. He stops once they are out of the way from people leaving the party and leans against a wall. With his hands on her hips, he situates her so she is standing between his legs.

“I don’t understand what’s happening,” she cries softly.

“Je suis désolé mon amour.” His voice breaks slightly as he apologizes, running a hand over her hair and kissing her forehead. “I should never have let you go. I won’t make the same mistake twice.”

“Why?” Tears are making tracks down her cheeks, and he wipes them away with his thumbs before framing her face in his big hands.

“Because, I’m a fucking idiot, bébé,” he admits. Kinsey sniffs and nods her agreement, making him chuckle. “When you first arrived, I was blown away by my . . . envie . . . desire, for you,” he says, struggling a tiny bit with his English. Of course, the more he speaks in French, the more of her resistance fades away. “I couldn’t do anything about it while you were working for me. So, I did my best to . . . voir tout sauf vous . . . focus on other things, I guess?” He raises a brow to ask if she’s following. Kinsey speaks fluent French, but she doesn’t remind him of this, preferring to make him work for it. “Then, you were gone and merde, bébé, my life fell apart.”

“Really?” Kinsey sniffs.

“Really,” he affirms.

“What if I’ve moved on?” she asks hesitantly.

His face darkens, his brown eyes becoming fierce and he growls, “Tu es à moi, bébé.”

Swoon.
Kinsey takes a step back, not ready to give into this dream; it will only hurt so much more when she wakes. She needs time to think, to process what the hell is happening. Lifting the hem of her dress, she skips down the step as quickly as she can without tripping in her ridiculous heels.

“Kinsey!” His footsteps are right behind her and she knows she can’t outrun him. Huffing in annoyance, she stops and kicks her shoes off before sprinting the rest of the way to the bottom. It well after midnight, so it’s not like a pumpkin carriage is going to show up, but luck is with her because there happens to be an orange cab. Wait, what century are we in again?

She doesn’t know how, but she manages to elude Cole before diving into the back seat of the vehicle. But then, Cinderella out ran Prince Charming (although, I think we can all agree on what a pussy he was), so I guess this shoeless maiden can do the same.

The cab speeds off, and she gives him her address, then slumps back, contemplating her circumstances. When the car finally pulls up the curb in front of her house, she spots a white Knight XV in the driveway. She rolls her eyes.
This is getting out of hand.
After paying the driver, she hops out and traipses across her front yard, no longer trying to outrun him. Still, she jumps when the driver’s side door slams and Cole rounds the car, calm as can be.

She stops at her front door and faces him. “How did you know where to find me?”

Cole answers as he strides purposefully towards her. “Perhaps I spoke with your . . . eh, mère fée”—he stops and chews on his lip for a second, thinking, then seems to settle on a phrase— “fairy mother?” He smiles at his little joke, but Kinsey is not amused and continues to stare at him.

He pouts for a moment, then shrugs. “I called your parents.” Standing in front of her now, he twists the knob on her door and it opens, without the key. He puts his hand on her lower back and guides her inside. The door shuts, and he sweeps her into his arms, carrying her to a couch in the first room he comes across. Taking a seat, he settles her in his lap, and Kinsey feels all of the resistance melt away. The truth is, she loves him and is happy he’s here. His arms wrap around her, and she snuggles down into his embrace, taking a deep inhale of his spicy scent. “I’ve asked to be part of the team getting the fashion house off the ground,” he informs her.

Kinsey’s nose wrinkles, not liking this at all. “You’re going to be my boss, again? But—”

“Didn’t you know this position was a—pro—eh, promotion?” he asks, clearly surprised. She sits up and faces him, her jaw hanging down, and shakes her head. Cole laughs and gives her a quick, hard kiss. “We are equals, bébé. Partners.”

“Seriously?” Kinsey practically shouts with excitement.

“Oui, bébé,” he whispers before kissing her again, this time slow and deep, exploring her mouth with his tongue, and causing the butterflies in her stomach to party like it’s Mardi Gras. “I love you, Kinsey. I will go wherever you are.” The words are mumbled against her lips.

Kinsey disengages her mouth and rears back to be able to look him in the eyes. The sincerity she sees in her undoing. “I love you too, Cole.”

He grins, and she could swear his chest literally puffs up a little with pride and it makes her giggle. Cupping her face between his hands, he sweetly kisses her forehead, eyelids, nose, and lastly, her mouth. “You have three months, bébé.” Kinsey’s brows lower as she tries to figure out what he’s talking about. He winks, his grin back in place on his perfect face. “To plan our wedding.”

There is only a moment of hesitation before Kinsey decides to say fuck it and throws rationality out the window. “Three months, then,” she agrees. His expression of joy lights up the world around her and she could swear something akin to magic is crackling in the air.

Cole holds her to him as he stands, raising a brow in question. Kinsey laughs and directs him to the bedroom. He takes his time with her, savoring and loving on her body, leaving no spot untouched. When they are both naked and pressed together, desperate for completion, he pushes up on his elbows and looks down at her. “Birth control?” he asks.

She cringes. “No, and I don’t have any condoms, either.”

He jerks his head up and down once, his face determined as he says, “Good. I want to see you with a round belly, growing a little one made of you and me.” He narrows his eyes, daring her to object. “No protection, bébé. I’m going to give you my baby.”

Once again, Kinsey vaguely wonders if she should be thinking this over, but ultimately, it’s what she wants. “Knock yourself out.” She laughs at his puzzled expression. “It means, go for it. Yes.” With no more preamble, he thrusts inside, and it isn’t long before they’re both flying high, right back on the cloud they’d been dancing on.

Cole runs a hand through his hair nervously. He knows convincing Kinsey he loves her is going to be an uphill battle but he puts on some proverbial armor and readies himself for the fight. He knocks on the door of the house and waits, hoping he got the address, her sister had given him, correct.

When it opens, an adorably mussed, sleepy-eyed Kinsey stands in front of him. She looks bewildered for a moment, then the morning fog starts to clear as her eyes widen. Before he can open his mouth to give her his perfectly rehearsed speech, she grabs his shirt and yanks, causing him to stumble into the house. Twisting the fabric in clenched fists, she glares at him. “You better be here to tell me you love me and are moving to Rêves to be with me.”

Cole’s eyebrows shoot sky high, his face a mask of disbelief, warring with hope, and he can only manage a nod. Her face softens with a smile. “You can grovel later, right now, I just want to be with you.” She takes his hand, and he follows blindly behind her, until they reach a bedroom.
If this is a dream
, he thinks,
please don’t ever let me wake up
.

Forcing might be a bit of a stretch.

M
y sister Kinsey called today. I ignored the sneaky suspicion about why she was calling, until my mother started squawking and clapping, evidently thrilled with whatever Kinsey had to say. The guy she’d been pining over had shown up, and they were engaged.
Engaged!

It was just my luck that Oliver happened to be there when the call came. I eye him suspiciously, trying not to laugh when he winks and wiggles his eyebrows. He holds up seven fingers with an arrogant grin, and I blanch. Was this his doing? No, that’s crazy, right? How could he possibly be orchestrating my sisters’ love lives? I shake the absurd thought out of my head.

I am easily distracted when he stands, his back muscles rippling and his spectacular ass on display. It certainly doesn’t help that I’m still tingling from when he’d hauled me over to his side, forcing me to cuddle up to his warm, delicious body. I do a mental face plant into the cushions, I have to stop ogling him or pretty soon, the side of me that likes the idea of being tied to this sexy man will win.

Jealous of a cupcake