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Amara’s perfect white teeth scrape along her plump bottom lip. “I don’t have anything to wear.”
“We’ll have a gown sent to you,” Killian and I say together.
“No.” Amara’s mouth gapes in horror. “Those are expensive.”
“Doesn’t matter.” Together. Again.
“I can’t say no, can I?”
“No.”
“Then get me something with a flower pattern or flowers on it, Killian. Please.” She spins toward him, pressing her hands together. “If we get to go to a formal event sort of with my two kings, I want to look like the princess I’ll feel on the inside.”
Soon, baby. You’ll have everything, soon.
“Matching flower heels too. I’m size—”
I grab her by the throat. “You’re not a princess. You’re a queen.”
“Don’t worry about anything.” Killian lets go of me. His two hands cover hers, and he kisses each one. “You don’t have to beg, either, beautiful girl. I’m happy to spoil you.”
“And while we’re on the subject of money.” I hook an arm around her middle, hauling her to me. I’m a greedy bastard, so fucking what. “Stop opening our mail. You’re not paying our bills.”
“You knew?” Her gasp has me wanting to put more of my saliva in there. Fill up her every hole.
“Yes. I’ve had them forwarded to my email since.”
“Hmph.”
More of Killian’s rare laugh follows us to the private elevator.
Fuck. There’s no escape from this. From telling her I love her, and soon. I’ll have to figure out how. Bottling this shit for much longer will give me an ulcer. Or worse.
Make me soft with all the emotions inside me.
I am not soft.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Amara
He listened. Killian really listened.
Lingering outside Luna’s wedding venue, I pat down the chiffon ankle-length he’d had sent to me earlier this afternoon. Black, of course. Almost not wedding appropriate, if not for the small crystal roses scattered all over the skirt of the dress. It matches the sandals he’d chosen for me.
I lift my right foot, admiring the gorgeous black sandal and the crystal rose on the strap.
With my hair pulled up into a high ponytail, I feel like a princess.
You’re a queen, Carter’s words echo in my head. Their queen.
“Don’t you look beautiful tonight, flower girl?” Carter’s hoarse voice booms from my left.
“Thank you, Mr. Steele.” Ever so slowly, I hide my grin as I twist to him.
Scruff trimmed, hair styled to the side, and his gray eyes gleaming. My handsome Carter in a tailormade black tux takes my breath away. Fucking steals it.
I hadn’t seen him when he left the penthouse early. It was the only time since I moved in that he and Killian let anyone else drive me here.
