Park Avenue Prince

by Louise Bay

  My eyes flickered down her body. She wasn’t giving anything away. But while she would let me, I would continue to state my case. “You taught me to see myself as an optimist. And I know myself to be a fighter. I’m not giving up on you. Ever. I love you.”

  Her chest rose as she drew in a breath. “I brought you this,” I rushed out, indicating the painting, half opened and resting against the wall. I had to put off her inevitable rejection as long as I could.

  Grace shook her head. “Sam, no, I don’t need anything.”

  Christ, she didn’t even want to receive a present from me. “It’s yours.”

  “No, you don’t have to buy—”

  “It’s yours. Whatever happens, it’s yours.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Grace

  Sam’s gift was so unnecessary. All I wanted was him—to see in his expression that he still loved me. His eyes were wide, his hair mussed and longer than I’d seen before, but he was still my Sam. He always would be. Through everything, I’d never doubted Sam’s feelings for me. So I’d waited, hoped and prayed and believed he’d come back to me. Back to us.

  “Please, Grace, just open it.”

  I kneeled and slid the string off the brown paper. The edges were hard, like a frame. Had he brought me a painting? I discarded the paper, then the bubble wrap and tissue that was the last layer of packaging. Just a glimpse of the frame told me what he’d done. Tears began to roll down my face as I revealed the canvas. How had he found it?

  “My Renoir,” I said, my gaze flitting about the piece, trying to take it all in. “You brought it back to me. How did you find—oh, Sam, the cost.”

  “Shhh, please don’t think about it. It was always yours. And so was I.”

  “You know, it’s funny,” I said, looking up at him. “I always thought I’d get it back one day. I was devastated when I had to sell it, but even when I delivered it to the buyer, I believed it would be mine again one day. A bit like you, Sam Shaw.”

  “But …” His mouth fell open as he struggled to find the words.

  “I don’t need the big speeches and the expensive paintings—just you. I only ever needed you,” I said.

  His eyes glistened with tears. “I don’t deserve—”

  “You deserve to be happy,” I replied. “And I deserve to be with the love of my life. Which is you. I know that. I’ve always known that. But I need you to understand that you can’t run from me when the storm comes, Sam. We have to stick together.”

  He nodded. “I get it. Really, I do. I’ll never leave again.”

  I reached for his hand. “Good. I hate being without you.”

  His hand curled around mine and he pulled me toward him.

  “You never have to be. Honestly, Grace, I want to prove it to you. I want to give you everything you want and deserve.”

  “And what do you want?”

  “I want you. I want you to move in with me tonight. I want to make up for lost time. I want to marry you tomorrow.”

  “You want to marry me?” I asked, fighting for breath.

  “Of course I want to marry you. You are the love of my life—I want it all.”

  “Is that a proposal?” I asked, the chatter of the gallery fading away, leaving just Sam and me in each other’s arms.

  “Do you want it to be?”

  I slid my hands over his. “I just got you back.”

  “So, today your answer’s a no—but I’m going to keep asking until you’re ready. If it takes a hundred years, one day, Grace Astor, you will be my wife.”

  “Oh? And what makes you so sure of that?”

  “Because,” he said, tilting my chin up for a kiss, “you taught me the most important lesson in the Count’s story. ‘Happiness is like those palaces in fairytales whose gates are guarded by dragons: We must fight in order to conquer it.’” He smiled down at me. “I won’t ever stop fighting again.”

  Epilogue

  Sam

  “Marry me?” I asked as I walked out of our bathroom, a towel around my waist, combing my fingers through my wet hair. Grace watched me from beneath the covers as she always did after my shower.

  Morning, noon and night, I loved Grace Astor, but she always took my breath away first thing in the morning—her sleepy face, soft limbs and croaky voice. She owned me. Despite her wanting to take things slowly, we’d not spent a night apart since I’d gone to the gallery nine weeks ago.

  She grinned at me and sat up in bed, smoothing her hands over her bed hair. “No. You marry me.”

  I froze. Had I heard her correctly?

  She bit the corner of her bottom lip, trying to stop her smile. I stalked across the room and pulled her down next to me. “What did you say?”

  As we lay opposite each other on the bed, she traced her finger over my nose and across my lips. “I said marry me.”

  “Are you asking me to marry you?” I asked, propping my head up with my hand.

  She nodded.

  “You’re finally saying yes?”

  “No.”

  I was confused.

  “You’re going to say yes. I hope. I’m asking you.”

  I chuckled. “Okay. I’m saying yes.”

  “You’re saying yes?” she asked, her smile widening. Could she really think that she’d get a different answer?

  “I’ve asked you every day for the last fifty-eight days—were you expecting me to say no?”

  We laughed and I pushed her to her back and kissed her, taking my time to explore her warm, soft mouth, enjoying her fingers combing through my hair.

  “This means we’re engaged,” I said.

  She nodded. “I need a ring.”

  “I bought three.”

  “You have three engagement rings?” She tipped her head back and laughed. “When?”

  I kissed her again, lingering over her lips. “Fifty-seven days ago. Want to see?” I started to move, but she pulled me back by the arm.

  “In a little while. Right now, I’m good with you in nothing but a towel, kissing me.”

  I pulled down the straps of her top and placed a kiss on each shoulder. “Kissing you where?”

  She tugged at the bottom of her top and lifted it up and over her head. “Everywhere.”

  No man was luckier in this moment than me. The best woman I’d ever known had promised to spend the rest of her life with me. Life didn’t get better than that.

  I kissed down her belly, tugging at her nipples and making her gasp. I grinned at the sounds she made. I did that. I could make her feel that good. And I’d keep doing it forever.

  I hooked my thumbs into the edges of her underwear and pulled them down, kissing from one juncture of the thigh to the other, licking the dip in her skin where her leg began. Her skin smelled of ripe cherries.

  “Sam,” she called, her voice raspy and breathless but content. Certain. Of me. We’d come a long way.

  I smoothed my hands over her inner thigh, pressing her open, getting her ready. I wasn’t sure who felt the anticipation of what was next more—her or me. She arched her back and I slid my tongue over her clit. Already, Grace was wet enough for me to drink and I was always thirsty for her.

  My erection pressed into the mattress as I lapped down her slit. She groaned, pushing out her little demands in a breathless flurry of please, don’t stop, yes, just there.

  I pushed my hand over my cock. I wondered whether the taste of her, the sounds she made, would get me this hard forever. I grinned against her as she continued her chatter. Yes. No question. She’d always get me hard.

  She grabbed my shoulders. “Sam, I need you.”

  Those words used to scare me, send me running. Now, there was nothing more I wanted to hear. That someone so beautiful, generous, kind and loving would need me. It was nothing short of an honor.

  I kissed her clit and moved up the bed. “You need me, Princess?”

  She reached for my cock. “Yeah,” she whispered as she dove for my mouth, hungry and ready for me. I r
olled on top of her and pressed my dick to her entrance. She responded by curling her legs around my hips.

  “This is our first time making love as an engaged couple,” I said as I pushed into her. She groaned, her palms flat against my chest.

  I closed my eyes for a second, just to steady myself at the feel of her.

  “No,” she said. “I don’t think so.”

  I bent to kiss her. “Did I miss something?”

  She grinned. “All engaged means is that we’ll spend the rest of our lives together—and I think that’s been the case from our very first time.”

  The drag of her around me as I pulled out combined with her words took my breath away.

  “Yes,” I replied as I pushed back into her and began my rhythm. She was right. She’d been mine from the moment I touched her. I’d been hers before I’d ever met her.

  We molded together like magic. The heat from our bodies enveloping us, binding us. As I rocked into her, gazing at her, she cupped my face. “I love you,” she said as my orgasm began to rumble in the distance. “I love you,” she repeated, the rumble growing louder, and she started to pulse beneath me.

  “I love you,” I said and she gasped as if it were the first time she was hearing it.

  “Sam,” she called, her unsteady voice telling me she was close. “Oh God, I love you, Sam.” She arched her back and milked my cock, pulling my orgasm from me as I began to spiral, my pulse banging in my ears. I bent and kissed her shoulder, sucking, tasting, breathing her in, wanting as much of her as I could get as our orgasms joined, drawing out the pleasure.

  Our breathing slowed and I rolled to one side, sliding her toward me, our legs entangling. “You’re my ultimate bliss,” I said, quoting Dumas. “I get it now. Without even knowing it, even through the darkest grief of my life, I waited and hoped. For you.”

  She trailed her fingers over my tattoo. “I think I waited and hoped for you my whole life, too.”

  “The day you appeared, a part of me knew it was always meant to be you.”

  “Your soul,” she said. She never ceased to amaze me. “I highlighted that passage.” She smiled. “‘There are two ways of seeing: with the body and with the soul. The body’s sight can sometimes forget, but the soul remembers forever.’”

  “I love you, body and soul,” I replied.

  Grace

  “She’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, don’t you think?” Sam said, leaning over his daughter as he changed her diaper.

  “You only just realized?” I asked, wrapping my arms around his waist.

  He chuckled. “I guess I get reminded every now and then.”

  Lauren kept her gaze focused strictly on her daddy, as if reminding him he better do her diaper right.

  “She’s never this still when I change her,” I said.

  “I think she knows I can’t get shit on my tux.”

  I laughed. “Can you imagine the wedding photos?”

  We’d walked the block to the Frick from our apartment. Lauren in her stroller, pushed by Sam in his tux, me in a red silk organza gown—who got married in white?

  It seemed like the most perfect way to arrive at our wedding—with our whole world strolling along a New York avenue.

  Sam fixed Lauren’s diaper and pulled up her tights. I’d managed to wrestle a headband of pink flowers around her head to match her dress.

  “She looks like a sugarplum fairy,” I said.

  “Did you hear that, sugarplum?” Sam lifted her upright and kissed her on her fat cheek. Lifting her onto his hip, he turned to me. “Are you ready?”

  I smiled and nodded.

  The museum had suggested we hold the ceremony in the West Gallery, but we both thought it was too big. We hadn’t invited many people and wanted it to feel small and intimate, so they’d set things up in the dining room where we’d had our first official date.

  Smiles and cheers greeted us as we walked in. Sam wrapped his arm around my waist, our daughter on his other hip, not wanting the three of us to be separated. I wouldn’t have it any other way.

  “You look incredible—a real Park Avenue princess,” Harper said, kissing me and then Sam.

  “I’m just happy I found my prince,” I responded.

  Scarlett and Violet pushed Max out of the way before he had a chance to kiss me. I just grinned at him as he rolled his eyes.

  “You look stunning,” Scarlett said.

  “And you can tell Lauren is your daughter. She’s such a cutie,” Violet said as she stroked Lauren’s cheek.

  Sam moved us on and I blew them a kiss.

  “Hey, Daddy,” I said as we approached my mother and father. Sam kissed my mother on the cheek.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look so beautiful,” my dad said, his eyes misty with tears.

  “I’m marrying the love of my life. What could be better?” I asked.

  “I did the same forty years ago and I don’t regret a moment,” he replied. “She’s made me very happy—I can only wish you the same.”

  “Thank you, Daddy.”

  “That’s one hell of a dress,” my mother said. “You look gorgeous.”

  Sam kept us moving toward the registrar.

  Angie stood when she saw us. “I’m so proud of you,” she whispered to Sam as she hugged him, the embrace awkward because Sam refused to let go of me even for a second.

  I waved at Chas, who was feeding their daughter, Morgan, in the front row. He grinned.

  When Angie went to sit down I turned to Sam. “Are you thinking about your parents?”

  “Always,” he replied. “But I feel them in my heart.” He dropped a kiss on my lips.

  We had no bridesmaids, no best men, no bouquets and no speeches. It was just Sam, Lauren and me with a few of our friends celebrating our love and our lives …

  Our ultimate bliss.

  The End

  Coming Soon

  Scarlett’s Story

  Books by Louise Bay

  King of Wall Street

  THE KING OF WALL STREET IS BROUGHT TO HIS KNEES BY AN AMBITIOUS BOMBSHELL.

  I keep my two worlds separate.

  At work, I’m King of Wall Street. The heaviest hitters in Manhattan come to me to make money. They do whatever I say because I’m always right. I’m shrewd. Exacting. Some say ruthless.

  At home, I’m a single dad trying to keep his fourteen year old daughter a kid for as long as possible. If my daughter does what I say, somewhere there’s a snowball surviving in hell. And nothing I say is ever right.

  When Harper Jayne starts as a junior researcher at my firm, the barriers between my worlds begin to dissolve. She’s the most infuriating woman I’ve ever worked with.

  I don’t like the way she bends over the photocopier—it makes my mouth water.

  I hate the way she’s so eager to do a good job—it makes my dick twitch.

  And I can’t stand the way she wears her hair up exposing her long neck. It makes me want to strip her naked, bend her over my desk and trail my tongue all over her body.

  If my two worlds are going to collide, Harper Jayne will have to learn that I don’t just rule the boardroom. I’m in charge of the bedroom, too.

  Read More

  The Nights Series

  (a series of three, full length, stand-alone novels)

  Parisian Nights

  The moment I laid eyes on the new photographer at work, I had his number. Cocky, arrogant and super wealthy—women were eating out of his hand as soon as his tight ass crossed the threshold of our office.

  When we were forced to go to Paris together for an assignment, I wasn’t interested in his seductive smile, his sexy accent or his dirty laugh. I wasn’t falling for his charms.

  Until I did.

  Until Paris.

  Until he was kissing me and I was wondering how it happened. Until he was dragging his lips across my skin and I was hoping for more. Paris does funny things to a girl and he might have gotten me naked.

&nb
sp; But Paris couldn’t last forever.

  Previously called What the Lightning Sees

  Read More

  Promised Nights

  I’ve been in love with Luke Daniels since, well, forever. As his sister’s best friend, I’ve spent over a decade living in the friend zone, watching from the sidelines hoping he would notice me, pick me, love me.

  I want the fairy tale and Luke is my Prince Charming. He’s tall, with shoulders so broad he blocks out the sun. He’s kind with a smile so dazzling he makes me forget everything that’s wrong in the world. And he’s the only man that can make me laugh until my cheeks hurt and my stomach cramps.

  But he’ll never be mine.

  So I’ve decided to get on with my life and find the next best thing.

  Until a Wonder Woman costume, a bottle of tequila and a game of truth or dare happened.

  Then Luke’s licking salt from my wrist and telling me I’m beautiful.

  Then he’s peeling off my clothes and pressing his lips against mine.

  Then what? Is this the start of my happily ever after or the beginning of a tragedy?

  Previously called Calling Me

  Read More

  Indigo Nights

  The only thing better than cake is cake with a side of orgasms.

  Dylan James has no expectations when it comes to relationships. He uses women for sex and they use him for his money and power. It’s quid pro quo and he’s good with that. It works.

  Beth Harrison has been burned. She’s tired of the lies and the game playing that men bring and has buried herself in her passion—baking which keeps her out of the reach of heartbreak. As she begins her career as a TV baker, a new world opens up to her.

  Dylan and Beth both know that casual sex is all about giving what you need to get what you want.

  Except that sometimes you give more than you need to and get everything you ever wanted.

  Read More

  The Empire State Series

  Anna Kirby is sick of dating. She’s tired of heartbreak. Despite being smart, sexy, and funny, she’s a magnet for men who don’t deserve her.

  A week’s vacation in New York is the ultimate distraction from her most recent breakup, as well as a great place to meet a stranger and have some summer fun. But to protect her still-bruised heart, fun comes with rules. There will be no sharing stories, no swapping numbers, and no real names. Just one night of uncomplicated fun.