I set the hammer down on the top of my ladder, and reached for the string of café lights I’d draped on the next step down. I hung them on the hook I’d just installed on the garden wall. Then I stepped down and admired my work.

Looking up from setting the long trestle table in the middle of the garden, Aly smiled at the ceiling of lights. “It’s perfect!” She turned that smile on me. “Thank you. It’s even more beautiful than I imagined.”

“Good thing I’m handy,” I said, leaning in for a kiss. “Otherwise you’d have to ask Marty to help you set up for your parties. And you know what a curmudgeon he can be.”

“Only with you.” Her eyes flicked to my lips. “He likes me.”

I grinned. “Who doesn’t?”

I pressed a kiss onto Aly’s mouth. Her lips were warm. Soft. She tasted sweet, like the champagne we’d been sipping on for the past hour or so.

My body jumped, the way it always did when I was around her. We’d been together for months now, and I kept waiting for the rush of desire I felt for her to subside. Kept waiting for the excitement to fade.

But it hadn’t. The more of Aly I had, the more I wanted. She made me so damn happy.

And I made her happy, too. Mostly by helping her host dinner parties like this one. (Just kidding…sort of). Tonight’s party was for Kit and Emily and the newest addition to the Thorne family. Little Princess Josephine (named after mum) had arrived two months ago, healthy and happy and beautiful. Josie’s doctor finally cleared her for visitors—we’d had a terrible flu season this past spring—so Aly and I had offered to have some friends and family (and maybe a dignitary or two) over to our place for a small meet and greet.

“Do you like your garden?” I asked, slipping my arms around her waist.

She stepped into me, pressing her body against mine. “Our garden. And yes. I love it.”

“So you don’t regret moving in with me, then?” I teased.

I’d been ready for Aly to move in with me the moment I’d told her I’d loved her at the Victoria and Albert Museum. I knew she’d wanted to take things slow, however, and I respected her timing. So I’d romanced the hell out of her in the meantime. I took her out on dates. Sent her flowers. Sent her flirty emails to let her know I was thinking of her. And of course I’d called in more favors from my friends in the Royal Navy. Aly had very much enjoyed our sunset tour of the Lake District via helicopter. And the plays we’d gone to see at The Globe—she’d enjoyed those, too.

We’d spent our Saturday nights staying up late, talking about everything and nothing. Then we’d go to our favorite brunch spot every Sunday morning, where we’d sip coffee and read the paper over our eggs (omelet for me, benedict for her).

We were sickeningly cute. Sickeningly in love.

It wasn’t perfect. Balancing our careers with our relationship took work. But it was bloody fantastic all the same.

I’d let Aly know she was welcome to move into my cottage at Primrose whenever she was ready. Last month, she’d told me she was.

Now here we were, hosting our second dinner party. I’d made a real effort to introduce Aly to my friends and colleagues. Now they were her friends, too, and she loved hosting them at our cozy little place on the palace grounds.

Aly’s eyes glittered as they met mine. She was in her element. And that fact made my heart soar. I never, not in a million years, believed I could make such an excellent girl like Aly Mason happy. Never thought I could make someone’s dreams come true. Or that anyone could ever be my dream come true.

But I was living that dream. Right here. Right now. On a summer night in our garden, the evening sky above us streaked with pinks and purples and just a hint of blue.

“Only when you leave the toilet seat up,” she replied.

I grinned. “Hey. I don’t ever leave the seat up.”

“Exactly.” She plucked at my lips. I groaned, my cock springing to life. “I never regret moving in with you, Robert.”

“You know.” Moving one hand to Aly’s ass, I lifted the other to check my watch. “We’ve got half an hour before our guests arrive.”

Aly pressed her groin right where I wanted her to. Right into my erection. Her eyes went hazy.

“Can anyone see us?” she murmured.

Backing her into the table, I tilted my head at the high brick wall that separated the palace’s private quarters from its public ones. “Not a soul.”

“Good,” she said, looping her arms around my neck.

She grinned when I lifted her and set her on the edge of the table. I settled myself between her legs, the insistent throb of my cock making me grit my teeth. Bloody hell, I’d barely touched her and I was ready to come.

I ducked down and kissed her neck, teasing her skin with my tongue. Her breath caught.

Aly was wearing a long, gauzy purple dress—another Emilia Wickstead creation—that I gathered in my hands and hiked up around her waist. My fingers trailed over the smooth skin of her legs. I slid my palms up her thighs.

My thumbs stopped just short of her groin. I pulled back a little, looking down.

She was wearing a pretty pair of panties. Black lace, to match the flowers on her dress.

I pressed my palm against her, the heel to her clit, the tip of my middle finger to her ass. I could feel her heat through the lace.

She moaned, a soft, sweet sound, and rolled her hips into my hand.

I slipped my first finger inside her panties, toying with them, the back of my middle knuckle grazing her wet heat.

Christ she was wet. Always so wet for me.

“Robert,” she whimpered.

I pressed my knuckle to her clit. Began to circle it. Aly’s head fell back, her hair trailing down her back and arms.

“I want,” she panted. “I want you inside me when I come.”

I grinned. “What the boss wants, she gets.”

I made quick work of my fly. When I grabbed my dick, I nearly winced. The tip was already slick with precum. Aly reached down and swirled her thumb around it, making me wet. Making me buck my hips.

I reached back down and circled her clit. Then she was guiding me toward her, and I was pulling those pretty little panties aside, and I kissed her, hard. She lined me up, and I canted my hips, surging into her in one smooth stroke. We both cried out. I stepped forward, curling an arm around her waist to hold her against me.

Her pussy was tight and hot. So hot.

“Let me,” I said. Let me have you.

And she did. She let me take the lead, holding her as I began to move inside her. Her knees were bunched up against my chest. Her mouth was on my jaw, my chin. My ear.

I reached down with my free hand and pressed my first two fingers against her swollen clit. Her cunt fluttered around me.

“Come, sweetheart,” I said.

And she did. The flutters became pulses. She whimpered again. Her kisses became frantic. Then her orgasm hit both of us, her pussy clenching me, milking me, and then I was coming, too, my body going taut against the force of it.

I found Aly’s mouth and kissed her. Our tongues and lips moving with well practiced ease as our orgasms subsided. Her cunt pulsed one last time, a hard, decisive beat, and then she went limp against me.

Blinking, I came to.

“Jesus Christ,” I sputtered.

Aly pulled back and met my eyes. She looked dazed. Satisfied. A small grin played at the corners of her mouth.

“Sorry,” I said, nodding at the table behind her. “I’m afraid we’ve made a bit of a mess.”

She glanced over her shoulder. We’d knocked down a few glasses, and some of the candles had fallen from their candlesticks. She turned back around, that grin now a smile.

Aly curled her hand around my jaw. “Worth it,” she said, and kissed me.

Everything we’d been through to get to this moment—it’d all been worth it.

* * *

Bringing his cocktail to his lips, Kit’s eyes caught on my neck.

“What the devil is that?” He tugged my collar aside. “Good God, man, is it a—”

“Hickie?” I took a tip of my gin and tonic. “Yes.”

I met Aly’s eyes across the garden. She was with Emily, my sister Jane, and one of my aunts. Aly smiled, this sly, secret thing.

As if I couldn’t love her any more than I already did.

“You do know the Prime Minister is coming,” Kit said.

I nodded. “I do. But she’s not nearly as uptight as you are, so I daresay she’ll appreciate the fact that I’ve got a bit of a love nibble on my neck.”

Kit rolled his eyes, and muttered something about God saving us all.

I watched as Emily passed Josephine to Aly. Aly’s smile grew. I tilted my head toward her, and Kit followed me over.

“The two of you make beautiful babies,” I said, looking down at Josie.

Em patted me on the back. “You guys will, too.”

“I know,” I replied. “I can’t wait.”

Aly looked up. Directed that smile at me. “Me neither.”

“Goodness, look at all you Thorne children, settling down,” my aunt said. She turned to Jane. “Well. Except for Jane. What about you, my dear? Ready to find your own prince charming?”

Jane scoffed, rolling her eyes.

“Hell no,” she said. Then she turned and made a beeline for the bar.

“Famous last words!” I called after her.

Without looking back, she flipped me the bird.

Aly settled her head on my shoulder. “Give Jane some space. She’ll find her prince. And when she does, she’s going to fall hard.”

“Just like you did?” I said, pressing a kiss onto the top of her head.

She smiled. “Just like me.”

* * *