Page 74 of The Prince Who Loved Me

His art. Displayed. In a gallery. Because they were good, not because of his name.

He glanced at the woman in green by his side. He was living every dream he ever had, all at once. And he wanted to watch her when she saw.

“Where are yours?”

He cleared his throat. “The far corner.”

“Well, let’s go see.”

He followed for a few paces, then fell behind so he wasn’t hovering when she saw herself in his portraits. Anyone with eyes could follow his love for her.

“Oh, look.” She tossed a smile over her shoulder. “There’s me.”

He waited and watched.

Brandi gave a small gasp, her hand creeping up to her mouth. “These are all me. Sebastien, they’re beautiful.”

Following those pieces was the one he did after she came to him in the orchard, an abstract drawing of shapes and lines that showed the conjoining of their worlds and the longing of his body. Her gaze rested on it for a few moments before she turned to him, crystalline tears in her eyes.

He took her in his arms while she clung to him. “Je t’aime,” he whispered. “I love you.” It was that simple.

He’d said it many times before, but this time, he could tell that she knew. Knew it was different, knew that he meant it, not in the way he loved her cousin, but beyond. Deeper. And only for her.

Her lips brushed against his. She hadn’t said the words back, but he felt it. In the way she touched him, in her tone, in the very way she responded to his caresses and his kisses.

They separated at the clip of high heels, and then Thomasina was standing next to them. “Owen. Welcome.”

He took her hands and kissed her cheek. “I amoverwhelmed with how this turned out.”

“I told you, I’m good at what I do.” She put her arm around the woman by her side. “This is my girlfriend, Zoe.”

Zoe was as dark and Thomasina was pale, her yellow dress the color compliment to Thomasina’s forest green one. Barrettes in her hair pulled curls away from her angular face. “So you’re the one who caused all the fuss last month.”

“That’s me.” Sebastien laughed and snagged Brandi around the waist. “This is Brandi.”

“Your gallery is magnificent,” she said.

“Beautiful and smart.” Thomasina shook her hand. “Come meet the other debut artists.”

There were five in all, each with a different specialty, and strategically placed around the gallery. Sebastien found something unique in every display. He had planned on buying a piece from each one, but was happy to know it would be out of admiration as well as support.

One of the catering staff stopped in front of them with a tray of champagne. Sebastien took two and handed one to Brandi. His muse. His inspiration. “To you.” He clinked his glass against hers and searched her unusual eyes. “I couldn’t have done this without you.”

“To you,” she emphasized. “I’m just along for the ride tonight. This is all you.”

He shook his head. “You’re it for me, Brandi.”

“Dear artists,” Thomasina intoned. “The doors are opening.”

Wendy, Rob, Jordan, and Josh were among the first inside, with the women making a beeline for Sebastien and his display, and their dates following.

“Congratulations, man,” Rob said, shaking his hand. He had donned a nice grey suit for the occasion, as had Josh.

“Yeah,” Josh said. Sebastien couldn’t remember everseeing him in a tie. “Looks great. I know it’s hard to put yourself on display.”

“Thanks for coming,” Sebastien said. “I suspect you go through this when you’re cooking something new. And you,” he raised his chin to Rob, “when someone reads your book.”

“I had a speech prepared about how someone not liking your art isn’t personal,” Rob said. “I was saving it to use myself.”