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“You just gave me a Caleb-worthy scowl. A superior one, actually.”

“Well, I’m annoyed I have to go and eat a bad dinner when I could be with you.”

“So you’re not upset I told my mum? I didn’t plan on it, I swear. But I realised if I lied, I was starting us on the same path as hers. This matters too much to me to do that. Yes, I know we will not tell everyone, but I just didn’t want to lie to my family. I don’t want anything about us to be anything like her.”

I see respect flash in those soulful eyes of his. “I know. And no, I don’t care. I understand why you did it. You’re invested. You care about me. About us. And I like that more than you could ever know.”

“We have to talk about how this changes what we’re doing,” I say. “But we can do that after dinner.”

“No,” Mason says.

“No?”

“Because what I plan to do after dinner doesn’t involve much talking.”

* * *

Finally, finally, finally!

I exhale in relief as I put my keycard up to my hotel room door. Dinner seemed to last forever tonight—gala dinners usually do, but this one seemed extra-long. After picking at my dinner, exchanging heated glances with Mason from across the room, watching him leave, and then waiting my turn to escape, I’m finally going to be alone with him.

I texted him when I was in the lift, and he’s headed to my room now. I still can’t believe what he told me outside the ballroom tonight.

He loves my confidence in him. It made me even more desirable in his eyes.

I put my clutch down on the dresser and stare at my reflection in the mirror over it. I look flushed and excited, and I still love the way this dress frames my body.

All I want is Mason’s hands all over me. Gliding over bare skin and sequinned fabric, grasping and stroking and taking as much as he can.

I can’t wait to feel his touch. I want it everywhere.

I slide open the dresser drawer, retrieving the box of condoms I bought for this trip. I wasn’t sure what we would be doing this weekend, but I wanted to be prepared all the same. I tear off a strip and move over to the bedside table, pull open the drawer, and put them inside before closing it.

Now I know. I want to have sex with Mason.

Am I in love? No.

Am I falling in love? Yes.

Do I physically want this man? ABSOLUTELY YES. Seeing how my confidence and bravery made him want me? That made me want him even more.

And tonight I’m going to have him.

Buzz! I head over to the dresser and pick up my phone. Mason has texted me, and excitement runs through me as I read his words:

At your door.

I take one last look at my reflection, tuck a lock of hair behind one ear, and go to the door, my heart beating a mile a minute. I open it, and Mason quickly slips inside. I shut it behind him, and before I can say a word, Mason has pulled me into his arms. I wait for him to devour me with his lips, but he doesn’t.

“How could you think,” he says slowly, moving a hand up underneath my hair, then sliding it down the nape of my neck, “I would ever want to stop seeing you?”

I stare up at him. His hand goes down my back, his rough fingertips gliding over my bare skin. I shiver, both from his touch and the sentiment behind his words. “I was afraid I wasn’t worth the risk,” I confess. “Dealing with my mum. The tabloid history. I thought she might have made you realise how much it will cost you to date me.”

“There’s a cost,” he says, his hand moving up and down across my back. I feel his fingers spread wider, as if he can’t get enough of my skin. “The cost is I can’t stop thinking about you. I see you in a room in this sexy dress and I can’t stop staring. The cost is wishing I could touch you in public, but I can’t. The cost is wanting to hear your voice in my ear and walk into the paddock by your side and let everyone know you’re mine. But I will pay that price if it means I get to be with you like this.”

My heart is pounding as I move my hands up the white dress shirt he still has on. Mason dips his head lower. I shiver in his arms as I inhale his cologne and feel that facial scruff brush against my skin. “I will face anything to be with you,” he says, his breath warm against my cheek as his words caress my ear. “I will wait. I will deal with the tabloids. The team. Your grandfather. I will face all of it when it’s time. But there’s only one person I would do this for. One. And that’s you, Catherine. It’s you.”

His lips find my earlobe, pulling it between his teeth. Then his lips brush against my jaw. He places sweet, reverent, gentle kisses there, and a shaky breath leaves my lips.