Chapter Forty-Eight

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We walked through the gardens, watching the sun start to disappear behind the mountains. The pinks and oranges of dusk dancing across the sky. A shiver ran through me as the mist from a fountain touched my exposed skin.

"Here." Clarence handed me his jacket, which I gratefully slid my arms into.

"Thank you." I smiled, absentmindedly pulling the edges of the jacket together in front of my face. "I could get used to a place like this." I said as I followed him into a small clearing with an archway and several benches. The light danced through the branches in the trees, making a pattern all over the ground.

We sat down on one of the benches and he put an arm around me before he spoke. "You could, you know."

What was that supposed to mean? There's no way that means what I think it does, right? I tried to keep careful time for my breathing to steady myself. Focus, Genevieve.

My brain whirled around without me, trying to find something to say that worked regardless of what he meant but nothing did. It's time to be brave, Genevieve.

"I'd like to," I whispered, not willing to look at his face when I did. Without giving him the chance to say anything, I shifted the conversation. "What is this place?"

"It's one of the more secluded parts of the garden." He looked at me and smiled. "I thought you'd like it the best.

"Oh?" I raised my eyebrow, waiting for him to explain himself.

"Well, it's away from the prying eyes."

"You're right." I looked around. "I don't even see a guard."

"I don't even think my mother can see in over these trees," he chuckled to himself.

We both know if his mother wanted to know, she'd find out. I looked around at the beautiful flowers and the curved stone path. "It's lovely."

"Yes," he sighed. "I guess you deserved it after spending today with everyone's eyes on you. You handled it with such grace."

The heat rose up in my cheeks. "Thank you. You really don't have to say that." I turned to face him, and instead of some snarky joke comment, I was met with his hand turning my chin so I was looking up at him.

"No," he replied. "I don't have to, but I want to." He slid a little closer to me and exhaled a sharp breath, his hand brushing an imaginary hair off my cheek.

My whole body warmed at his touch and I closed my eyes, swallowing the growing lump in my throat.

"Do you--?" he asked as his hand fell to rest on my shoulder. I opened my eyes to stare into his. Is he asking what I think he is?

His eyes searched mine, as though hoping for the answer to a question he could not ask. We have that in common.

I felt my eyes drift down towards his lips and then snapped them back up to his eyes, only to notice his deep brown eyes drifting back up to meet mine.

"I--" have no idea what to say?

He slowly leaned towards me and I could smell his cologne. I could practically see our first meeting at the club playing in front of me, his attractive form drawing me in even then. But it was nothing like the club in that moment, the cold air stinging the back of my legs as we sat inches apart from each other in the secluded part of the palace gardens.

My feelings for him had grown like the trees that surrounded us. Slowly at first and then seemingly all at once. By the time I came back to reality, he was so close I was sure he could hear my heart racing a mile a minute.

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