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I’m about to demand more details when the spa attendant approaches with a tray of cucumber water. We fall silent, accepting the refreshments with practiced smiles. When she leaves, I try to return to the conversation, but Violet smoothly changes the subject.

“So, what are you wearing tonight? Please tell me it’s not one of those awful Chanel dresses.”

“Actually, Reign arranged for a stylist to meet us at the hotel,” I admit. “Three dresses to choose from, shoes, jewelry, everything.”

“Of course, he did,” Iris says, rolling her eyes affectionately. “The man doesn’t miss a detail.”

“It’s sweet,” Violet insists. “He wants this night to be perfect for you.”

“I just wish—” I start, but I’m interrupted by a commotion at the front desk.

My heart nearly stops when I see who’s standing there, towering over the receptionist. Reign, in dark jeans and a button-down that stretches across his broad shoulders, his presence instantly dominating the delicate spa atmosphere.

Several women openly stare as he scans the room.

His expression softens when he sees me. He walks toward our pedicure station with a confident stride that makes my stomach flip.

“Afternoon, ladies,” he says with a grin. “Enjoying yourselves?”

“Immensely,” Iris purrs, giving him an appreciative once-over. “You certainly know how to treat a girl’s friends right.”

Reign’s focus remains on me, his eyes taking in every detail of my face. “Everything okay, Princess?”

“Everything’s perfect,” I assure him. “I thought you had meetings this afternoon?”

“Finished early.” He glances at his watch. “Just wanted to check in before your appointments wrapped up.”

The receptionist approaches nervously.

“Mr. Mitchell, would you like to wait in our lounge? We can bring you a beverage while the ladies finish their treatments.”

“I’m good, thanks.” His eyes never leave mine. “Actually, there’s been a slight change of plans. The stylist called. She can only meet us an hour earlier than scheduled.”

“Oh,” I wiggle my freshly painted toes. “I think we’re almost done here anyway.”

Violet nudges me with her elbow. “Go. We’ll finish up and meet you back at the hotel.”

“You sure?”

“Positive,” Iris chimes in with a mischievous grin. “I want at least another twenty minutes of this foot massage.”

I carefully slip my feet into the spa sandals, standing to join Reign. His hand immediately finds the small of my back, that simple touch sending electricity through my entire body.

“Ladies,” he nods to my friends. “See you tonight.”

As we walk toward the exit, I feel the weight of every female gaze in the room. I can’t blame them. Reign commands attention without even trying, his powerful frame and intense focus making him impossible to ignore.

“Was that true? About the stylist?” I ask once we’re in the hallway.

His lips quirk up at the corner. “No.”

“Then why?—”

“Because I’ve been in meetings for four hours while you were being pampered, and I couldn’t wait another minute to see you.” His voice drops lower. “Is that a problem?”

My heart flutters like I’m sixteen instead of twenty-three. “Not at all.”

The elevator doors slide open, and we step inside alone. The moment they close, Reign has me pressed against the wall, his mouth claiming mine with hungry urgency. I melt into him, my hands sliding into his hair, pulling him closer.

“Missed you,” he murmurs against my lips.

I smile into the kiss. “It’s been three hours.”

“Too long.” His hand cradles my face. “You’re addictive, Princess.”

The elevator chimes, forcing us apart as the doors open to the hotel lobby. Reign keeps his hand at the small of my back as we cross through the elegant space, nodding to the concierge who practically bows in response.

“What were you and your friends really talking about?” he asks as we enter another elevator that will take us to our floor. “You looked serious when I walked in.”

I hesitate, unsure how much to reveal. “They were just giving me the usual best friend advice.”

“About?” His eyes are too perceptive, missing nothing.

“About you. Us. This situation.” I fidget with the edge of my spa robe. “They think I’m making things too complicated.”

“Are you?”

The question hangs between us as the elevator ascends. Am I? Is there a simpler solution that I’m too afraid to see?

“Maybe I am,” I admit as the elevator continues its silent ascent. “But it’s not just about me.”

Reign’s fingers lift my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze.

“Answer me one question. What do you want, Audrey? Not what Lucille wants. Not what’s expected of you. What do you want?”

His question strips away all my carefully constructed excuses. What do I want? I’ve spent so long considering everyone else’s needs and expectations that I’ve barely allowed myself to acknowledge my own desires.

“I want to be free,” I whisper, the truth of it settling deep in my bones. “I want to paint without hiding. I want to make my own choices.” I take a shaky breath. “I want you.”

Something fierce and possessive flashes in his eyes. “Then you’ll have it.”