I step back from the mirror as I dab a little bit of mascara off my cheek. Francesco and his team had come by earlier today to dress Tate and me for the Emmys. Tate isn’t up for anything this year since he left TV behind a few years ago, but he thought I’d like to see Hollywood in action. I immediately took him up on the offer.

Though now, as I totter around on four-and-a-half-inch heels and try to figure out how I’m going to eat in this bustier, I’m wondering what I’ve gotten myself into.

It had taken hours to get me into this pale yellow, silk Versace gown, do my hair, makeup, and nails, and choose the right heels. It’s exhausting work for one night on the red carpet, but the final effect’s worth it. I feel and look like a million bucks.

I gasp as a pair of hands cover my eyes. A stubbly chin grazes my ear. “You look stunning.”

I shiver under Tate’s hot breath on my skin. I breathe in, letting his cologne wash over me. I’ll never get enough of that husky scent.

I turn around and openly stare at the hunk standing behind me. Tate looks amazing in his tailored black tux and crisp white shirt; his toned build and broad shoulders making it look like he was born to wear that tux. My pulse quickens at the intoxicating sight. There is nothing sexier than a man in a tux.

“You don’t look so bad yourself,” I say, a little out of breath.

“You know…” He reaches out and pulls me to him. “We have some time before the limo arrives.”

I giggle and wrap my arms around his neck. “True.” I kiss his nose. “Wouldn’t want to just sit around and do nothing, right?”

A few steamy minutes later, Tate’s hand reaches around my back and begins to fiddle with my dress’s zipper. I’m about to stop him from undoing all of Francesco’s hard work when my phone rings.

I pull back and frown down at the screen. It’s an unfamiliar number, which could mean…

I give Tate an apologetic look and answer it. “Hello?”

“Hi Charlotte, this is Ginevra.”

I grin and give Tate a thumbs up. “Ginevra, how are you?”

“I’m well, thank you. So sorry to call on an awards night, but I didn’t want to wait until Monday.”

“Not a problem.”

Tate tries to pull me back to him, trying to resume what was interrupted, but I shoo him away. I needed my wits about me for this call.

“I’m calling to say that the part is yours if you want it.”

The blood rushes to my ears. What?

“I’ll have a contract sent over to your agent. We’re really excited to work with you, Charlotte.”

A contract? My agent?

I sound like a real actress…

“Charlotte? You there?”

I shake my head hard to clear the fog. “Yes! Sorry, I’m just in shock.”

Ginevra laughs. “I understand. This is a big role for you, but I know you’ll do great. Now I know you have a red carpet to get to, so I’ll let you go.”

“Thank you. Thank you so much,” I gush before hanging up.

Tate turns me around to face him. “What happened? Good news?”

I nod, a slow smile gathering on my lips. “I got the part, Tate. I’m Michelle Hart.”

Tate shouts and wraps me in a big bear hug. “I knew you would, congrats!”

I grin into his shoulder, basking in his support and happiness. I did it. I finally landed a part, and not just some extra in a scene, but a leading role.

“This is the start of something big,” Tate says, kissing the top of my head. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Thanks.” A dark sadness edges out my happiness. “Wait…” I pull back and stare up into his beaming eyes.

“What is it?”

“What does this mean?”

He laughs. “It means you’re going to be a movie star!”

“No…I mean, if I take this, then I’ll be chained to L.A. for the next few years. What does this mean for us?”

“It means that we better take a vacation now because we’re both about to start projects.”

I raise my eyebrows. “So you’re taking the play? I’m so happy for you! It’s—” I swallow as my throat constricts “—the right choice.”

“Actually, the right choice is staying here in L.A.”

“You mean New York.”

“No, Char. I got offered a movie at Warner Bros.”

I gape at him. “You have?”

“I’ve thought a lot about it and I decided to accept it. That means I’ll be here with you for the foreseeable future.”

“That’s great! Oh my God, what’s the part? When do you start? How did this even happen?”

Tate laughs and holds up his hand. “Hold up. I can’t answer five questions at once.”

“Wait…” I frown as the full meaning of his words hit me. “How long has you known about this?”

He rubs the back of his neck. “Uh, over a week?”

“A week!?”

“Um, yeah.” Tate give a sheepish grin. “Kevin’s been bugging me about it, but I finally told him my decision two days ago.”

Two days? A week?

“This means you’re free from our agreement. A movie deal and a play offer? Tate, you could have left ages ago and not looked back.”

“And why would I do that?”

“Because…” My hand goes to my head, trying to stop it from floating away. So many competing thoughts swirl around inside. “Because it’s your dream, for one. You got what you wanted.”

“New York isn’t my dream, you are, and there are always plays in L.A. and San Francisco that I can try. Hell, I’d be caught with my pants down if I moved all the way to New York and found out the stage wasn’t for me.”

I give him a pleading look. “You’re not doing this for me, right?”

“Of course I am.”

“Tate!”

He takes my hand and squeezes it. “Let me finish. Charlotte, you’re everything to me. You’re more important than any of this. You’ve made it clear that what I want is here in L.A. The movie will be a great opportunity.” He smirks at me. “I’m a pretty badass hero, and I get to wear a cape.”

Normally, this sort of comment would warrant an eye-roll, but not this time. I know he’s trying to lighten the mood, trying to make this seem like it’s what he wants. But I’m not buying it.

“I’ll move to New York. I can get another role.”

“Then we’d both be out of work.” He cups my face in his hands. “Because I’ve already turned down the part. I want to be here. You’re a big part of my decision, but not the whole reason I’m staying. Believe me when I say I know what I’m doing.”

I stare up at him, meeting his eyes, and see he’s telling the truth. This is his decision, his life, and he’s choosing me.

“This means so much to me,” I whisper. “Thank you.”

He drops my hands and reaches into the breast pocket of his tux. “I got something for you. I was waiting for the right moment to give it to you, and when I saw you in that dress…well, I knew that moment had come.”

He draws out a robin’s-egg blue rectangular box and holds it out to me. I take in the Tiffany’s emblem with wide eyes.

“Open it,” he says quietly.

I take the box and slowly ease open the lid. I gasp as a glittering row of flawless diamonds set in a garland-style platinum choker meets my stunned eyes.

Tate reaches over and picks the necklace up off the velvet. He steps around me and glides the choker onto my neck, the platinum smooth and cool against my flushed skin. I turn my head to the right, then left, making the diamonds dance under the light.

“Do you like it?”

I turn and kiss his cheek. “It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

“I got it that day at Tiffany’s, the day I saw you try on your ring. That’s when I knew we were real. I knew I wanted you to be my wife.”

My breath catches in my throat. “Your wife?”

“Yes,” he murmurs, getting down on one knee. I follow his movements with disbelieving eyes. Is he about to…

“Charlotte Laine, love of my life and the most talented, annoying, beautiful woman alive… Will you be my real wife?”

“Annoying?”

“Um, well, yes.” Tate frowns a little. “I think we’ve established that.”

“You know, you’re not that easy to get along with either.”

“Charlotte…”

“I’m just saying! If I’m going to spend the rest of my life with you, then I want to start off by being honest—”

“Dammit—!” Tate jumps up and yanks me to him. His lips take mine, stifling the next argument on my lips. One arm snakes around my waist and crushes me against him, while the other one reaches up to cradle my head. His tongue slides between my lips and tastes me, its need hard and hot.

I crane my head back under the force of his kiss. My mind goes blank, my knees go weak… If he wasn’t gripping me to his chest, I’d faint. It’s overwhelming. It’s powerful. It’s Tate Gunner.

I gasp when he releases my lips, reeling from the passion and fervor conveyed in that kiss. I lay a hand over my heaving chest, fingering the diamond necklace that now adorns my collarbones. I take a deep breath as my head clears and drag my eyes to Tate’s. Fire ignites his green orbs as they glare at me.

“That was your fault,” he growls.

“Me?”

“Yes. You know what scolding does to me. At least that seems to silence you when you’re on a roll.”

“I could live with that.”

“But could you live with me?” Tate reaches out and caresses my cheek with his fingertips, leaving a burning trail on my skin as he thumbs my bottom lip. “I still haven’t had my answer, Char. Will you be my partner, my best friend, my lover?”

I place my palm over his hand and lean into it, closing my eyes and enjoying his touch on my smooth cheek. Of course I’m going to say yes. I just love riling him up. I could never pass up an opportunity to check that ego of his. Sometimes I have to remind him who he’s dealing with.

I meet his eyes and let my love for this incredible, strong man wash over me. “Yes, Tate. With my whole heart, yes.”

The breath hitches in his throat and he goes still. We stare at each other for a moment, our love colliding and blending together into a beautiful swirl of passion, acceptance, and a little bit of nervousness. We’ve just committed ourselves to each other like neither of us ever has before and stepped into the unknown.

What will the future bring? What will marriage and a lifetime of walking side by side entail? I don’t know, but that’s okay, because I won’t walk into the unknown alone. I have a partner, a best friend, a lover. I have a real fiancé, and together, we’ll enjoy the highest highs and weather the lowest lows.

Tate stoops down, pitches me onto his shoulder, and drapes me over his back. He straightens and heads for the bed.

“What are you doing!”

“No words are necessary right now, Char.”

“But this dress is Ver—”

I’m cut off as he tosses me down on the bed. I land in a flurry of pale yellow silk and ruffles as my gown fans out around me.

“I don’t care if it’s been flown in from Milan by the man himself.” He gets on the bed an starts tugging at his collar. The black bowtie loosens and falls from his neck onto the comforter. “You won’t need it for what I have in mind.”

“Now wait one moment,” I warn, scrambling onto my elbows.

Tate lets out a low growl as I inch away from him. “You know I only like it more when you get bossy.”

“We have an awards banquet to go to!”

He darts out a hand and grabs my ankle. My Jimmy Choo goes flying into the wall a second later.

“Tate!”

“This is more important.” Tate lowers his lips to my leg and begins moving up my calf. A moment later, his hands join his lips, gliding over my knee to the base of my thigh.

“What are you doing?” I ask slowly.

“Celebrating,” he murmurs into my tingling skin. His lips pass my knee and move onto my soft inner thigh.

I moan as desire and want crowd out my rational mind. “But—”

“No ‘buts’ but yours, Char. I don’t want to spend tonight in some stuffy tux at some boring event. Besides, we can sneak in later. These things never start on time.”

“It’s the Emmys!”

“Well, it’s not here…” He kisses my thigh once, and then moves up. “In our home…” He kisses twice, and moves up again. “Or in our bed…”

His mouth inches up until he’s at my center. He looks up over the bunched hem of my dress. “It’s not here…between your thighs.” His fingers slide beneath my panties and tug them aside. “It’s not you.”

He slowly glides two fingers in my tightness. I gasp and throw my head back as he begins to move inside of me, in and out, rubbing my slick walls until waves of pleasure rush through me.

“This is where I want to be,” he says huskily. “With my fiancée.”

I meet his eyes and suck in my breath. He wants me, all of me, just as much as I want him. There will be more ceremonies and banquets to go to, but we would never get tonight back. Tonight is our night. A celebration of our true love.

I bite my lip and lower my eyelids, giving Tate that sexy pout that drives him wild. It does the trick. In seconds, his lips are on mine—pulling, sucking—as they take what rightfully belongs to them. I am his and he is mine. Forever.

“Tate,” I whisper, pulling away.

He groans. “You’re killing me, babe. Whatever you’re going to say, I’d make it quick…” He dips his head to my cheek and bestows a line of kisses on my soft crevasses.

“I’m yours, famous guy,” I say, stifling a moan. How does he always know where to touch me? “Today…tomorrow…always.”

He tilts his head back and gazes lovingly down at me. “I love you, Char. More than I ever thought possible.”

I beam up at him, my heart doing little leaps in my chest as I know that I’m going to spend the rest of my life with this man.

“Ditto,” I say, and bring my lips back to his.