Page 69 of The Prince Falls First
“Your Highness.”
Gabriel merely smirked at the woman currently dancing in his arms.
Genevieve kept the polite, society smile but he could tell she was seething underneath. He loved it when she seethed. “YourHighness. The king is mere steps away from us. It wouldn’t be good if you were overheard.”
“My father isn’t paying any attention to us.” He leaned in close, his lips brushing against her ear as he whispered. “Besides, you know you want to.”
Her breath hitched and she stepped slightly back, not missing a step with the dance. “Your Highness.”
“I’d prefer you whisper my name like you did the last time we were together. Or the time before that. Or the time before?—”
She glanced around, as if checking to see who else might have overheard. “Your Highness.”
“If you’re not interested in a dalliance at the ball, perhaps you’d prefer I kneel down and propose to you.”
Her feet stuttered, but he kept them deftly on beat to the music. “What?”
“I thought so. Meet me in our spot in ten minutes.”
“We shouldn’t.”
“Maybe not,” he admitted. “But we will.”
The music ended and he led her off the dance floor with a smile. She curtsied to him and he acknowledged it before he turned to find the partner he’d promised the next dance to. Though he didn’t particularly want to dance with her, doing so would draw attention away from his dance with Genevieve.
Ten minutes later, he had slipped away from the ball and was heading to a small sitting room just far enough away from the ballroom, only his two protection agents following. He’d made this trek many times before, for many other women. He couldn’t say he regretted those encounters, but now, having met the woman he wanted to spend his life with, he could say he wished he’d had fewer of them, for Genevieve’s sake.
He opened the door and she was sitting near the window, staring into the night sky. The lights were dim, but he could see her face, an almost resigned expression on it.
She stood immediately and curtsied. “Your Highness.”
He closed and locked the door behind him. “There’s no need for formality here. Aren’t we alone?” He glanced around the room, just in case he’d missed something or someone.
“We are alone.”
“Good.” He strode to her and took her in his arms, the skirt of her ballgown swishing against his legs.
“Wait.” She pressed her soft, well manicured hands against his chest and he wanted to rip his military dress uniform off and feel her skin against his.
“Why?” He took one of her hands and kissed her palm. “Why are we waiting?”
“We need to talk.”
He started kissing up her arm to her shoulder. “About what?”
“You said you wanted to propose.”
“And?”
“And! Your father doesn’t approve of me. He hasn’t since you told him I moved in without getting his permission first.”
“My mother likes you. My siblings adore you. I’m absolutely in love with you. That’s more than enough surely.” He nuzzled her neck and started to move towards the top of her strapless gown.
She was trembling slightly, whether from his kisses or the conversation he wasn’t sure, so he stopped to look into her eyes. “What are you really worried about?”
She stepped back and took a deep breath, then started pacing. “What aren’t I worried about is a more accurate question. We can’t get married if your father doesn’t approve. He’d have to present our engagement to the Council and they won’t approve it if he doesn’t. Not to mention, we’ll need to get engagement portraits done, then wedding portraits which include all of our families, including my abusive mother. And?—”
He gently took her arm to stop her. “Do you want to marry me? If I could make those issues go away or minimize them, would you—could you—be happy married to me?”
