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Lately, I worried more aboutnottelling her. My parents had died at such a young age. What if something happened to me? What if I’d never told her that I loved her? What if I missed my opportunity?

But then her words floated back to me.

If you’re worried about me falling in love with you. Don’t.

Followed by,I know you don’t do relationships.

But what if I did?

Wasn’t that what this was? A relationship? It may not have started off as “real” or anything more than a business arrangement, but even in the short time we’d been married, it had certainly transformed into something more—at least for me.

Qui ne risque rien, n’a rien.Or he who risks nothing, has nothing.

I took risks every day in my job. Did I really want to risk losing out on something amazing with Lily because I was scared?

If she could have the courage to tell me about her alopecia, to remove her wig and show me a side of her that she usually kept hidden, I could find the courage to tell her how I felt.

“You okay?” Lily asked, placing her palm to my cheek.

I nodded, enjoying the warm water and the comfort of her touch. My heart was in my throat, but I had to do this. I had to tell her the truth.

“Je t’aime,” I rasped, the words feeling both foreign and yet right.

She stilled, eyes searching mine. “You…what?” She was breathless.

“I—” I cupped the back of her neck. “Love. You,” I said again, this time in English.

“Y-you do?” she stammered.

Had I really done such a shitty job of showing her how I felt? I’d figured it was so painfully obvious, even if it had taken me a little longer to realize it. To put a name to those feelings. Not just respect or admiration or lust, but love.

“Yes.” I scanned her eyes, searching for an answer. Hoping she might feel the same or even might someday come to love me. “I didn’t think I was capable of love. But you made me see that I am. That I always have been. I just had to believe it myself. And the only reason I do—” I kissed her gently. “Is because of you.”

Water droplets rained down her face, her expression unreadable. “I?—”

I placed a finger to her lips, stopping her from speaking. My heart was pounding a million miles a minute. “It’s okay. You don’t have to say it back. You don’t have to say anything. I just…” I took a breath, feeling a rush of emotion. “Needed you to know.”

“Are you done now?” she asked, all sass and sexiness.

I fought back a smile. “Yes.”

“Good. Because…” She draped her arms around my neck, pressing that soft, supple body to mine. God, I loved her curves. Loved her. “I love you too.”

Fuck. Yes.

I wanted to fist-pump the air. I wanted to run outside and shout it from the top of the château so everyone could hear it for miles. I wanted to?—

“Kiss me,” she said. “For real this time.”

I trailed my finger over her cheekbone, down her jawline. She was so incredible. And she was mine. Not because of any agreement. Not because we’d signed a contract. But because she wanted to be with me. And I wanted to be hers.

“It’s always been real for me,” I whispered.

I kissed her cheek, just beside her lips. Her collarbone. Her shoulder. Anointing her with kisses, bathing her in affection and love.

She cupped my cheeks, meeting my eyes before kissing me with love and reverence. She might not have said the words aloud, but I felt them in her touch. In the way she looked at me.

I kissed the center of her chest, in the valley of her luscious breasts.Mine.