Page 103 of Reign

“Daphne…are you—”

“Yes.” She cut him off with another kiss.

Daphne knew she was risking everything she had worked so hard for. But none of that seemed to weigh anything right now.

Without breaking the kiss, Ethan scooped her into his arms and carried her into the bedroom, then deposited her onto the crisp white duvet. Daphne pulled him down on top of her, hooking her legs around his waist. Her hands slid beneath his waistband, over the dip at his waist, and up the planes of his back.

Her body seemed to have reverted to pure muscle memory, as if they’d slipped back in time to the night of Himari’s birthday party, the night they were first together. Before all of her manipulations and plots and fake pregnancies and utter desperation.

“I love you,” Ethan whispered. His breath was hot in her ear.

In answer, Daphne kissed him harder, more hungrily. Because even if she wanted to say it back, she didn’t dare to.

How many times had Jefferson told her he loved her? But none of them had felt like this, because he didn’t know her—didn’t see every last flawed part of her, the way Ethan did.

There must have been a small, undefended corner of Daphne’s heart that still hoped, in spite of everything she’d done, that she was worthy of truly being loved.

“I can’t believe you’re going to Oxford!” Sam exclaimed, leaning back on the velvet pillows. “I’m really going to miss you, you know.” They had retreated to the far side of the Grand Gallery, where couches upholstered in rose-colored silk were arranged next to delicate side tables. After the drama around the Madisons’ departure and Jeff’s subsequent toast, the rehearsal dinner had drawn to a close, but Nina hadn’t been ready to leave—not when she and Sam could finally catch up. Nina hadn’t seen nearly enough of her best friend lately.

The two of them had spent the last hour filling each other in on everything: Sam’s reconciliation with her family, Nina’s excitement at having done the play, and her news about Oxford.

“I won’t be gone long. Just a semester,” Nina said in answer to Sam’s complaint.

Her best friend laughed. “You say that now, but I have a feeling you’ll never leave. A city full of history and libraries, where all you have to do is read?”

“Readandwrite massive weekly papers.”

“You can write papers in your sleep.” Sam waved away the objection. “Should I come visit for your spring break?”

“I would love that. Maybe another time, though? Jamie might be coming at spring break….” Nina trailed off at the look on Sam’s face.

“I see. Things are serious, then.” Sam seemed pleased, and a little surprised. A teasing note entered her voice as she added, “I should have known you were serious, if you were willing to face this dinner for him.”

“It wasn’t that bad, actually.” Nina hadn’t minded hearing all those toasts about Jeff and Daphne; she’d hardly listened, too busy daydreaming about Oxford. And it hadn’t hurt that she had a handsome prince of her own on her arm.

She glanced back at Sam. “Speaking of wedding dates, have you talked to Marshall lately? I assume he’s not coming tomorrow?”

Sam shook her head and sighed. “He can’t come, for the same reasons I asked him to stay behind in the first place. The second he shows his face in America, it’s all over for him.”

It was obvious to Nina that Samantha wanted Marshall here. Of course she did; this was her twin brother’s wedding, and she didn’t want to face it without her boyfriend. But Sam was trying to do the best thing for Marshall by not needing him—even if it might not be the best thing for their relationship.

Sam stood, and the skirts of her tulle cocktail dress drifted around her legs. “I should go check in with my mom. Congrats again on Oxford, Nina.”

“You got into the Oxford program?”

They both looked up to see Jeff standing there. He ran a hand through his hair, making it stick up in a slightly boyish way. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to eavesdrop.”

Nina felt Sam staring at her, clearly wondering why she’d told Jeff about her study-abroad application when they supposedly weren’t friends anymore.

“Okay…see you both later.” Sam hesitated, then walked off, casting one last glance over her shoulder.

“Thanks for coming tonight, Nina. And—for earlier, with Jamie…,” he fumbled to say. “It meant a lot.”

“I’m just glad you two made up.”

Nina suddenly realized how late it had gotten. The staff were already cleaning up: quietly dismantling the tables from the evening’s event, moving the flower arrangements to the ballroom, where a team of florists would probably work all night, rearranging them into new vases for tomorrow.

“I should get going.” Nina reached for her clutch, then frowned at how light it was.