Twice Upon A Time (Unfinished Fairy Tales #2)(79)

37





Back at the palace, I trudge up the stairs to the suite, feeling tired. I should continue preparing for the proposal, but to be honest, it’s hard to keep my attention focused on the dry, tedious texts. After struggling for a while, I pick up The Woman in Red instead. It proves to be such an intriguing page-turner that I barely register the knock on my door.

“Kat.”

Edward walks toward me, a curious light gleaming in his eyes. I was feeling drowsy, but any thought of dropping off to sleep is banished when I discover what he is carrying.

“Is that . . . cake?”

He smiles and sets a plate on the table. The piece of cake looks positively sinful, with luscious chocolate curls heaped on top with several dark cherries. “Happy birthday,” he says in a low voice.

My heart leaps. Katriona’s birthday falls some time in spring, but as Katherine Wilson, my birthday is today. “You remembered?”

“Last year, you told me when your birthday was, as well as what you usually do to celebrate it.” Edward pulls out a candle from his pocket, along with a box of matches. “You mentioned that there were candles shaped to resemble numbers in your world, but I’m afraid I was unable to procure one. I hope this will be acceptable.”

Wordlessly, I watch him jab the candle on the cake and strike a match. The flame flickers, illuminating the side of his face. He could be plain, ugly, or even scarred . . . whatever he looks like, he will always be number one in my heart.

“Make a wish, Kat.” He smiles at me.

I kneel beside him, clasp my hands, and shut my eyes. Please, I say in my mind. Please let me stay with him forever.

Blowing out the candle, I settle back on my haunches.

“Can I ask what you wished for?”

I giggle and prod his arm lightly. “I think you can guess what it is.”

He puts his hand on my shoulder. “Does it concern me?”

“Of course.” I take the silver fork that lies next the cake and cut the cake into half. “Did you order the kitchen chef to make this especially for me?”

“I told them I had suddenly developed a sweet tooth. It is an unusual request, but fortunately they were accommodating.”

I giggle. “I’d love to see the pastry chef’s face.”

Forking a delectable piece with a dollop of chocolate cream, I put it in my mouth. Oh, my God. I could present the chef a medal—the cake is that good. An explosion of rich decadence, sweet and addictive, goes straight through my mouth, sparking my senses. I can’t help it. I let out a moan.

Beside me, Edward inhales sharply. I realize that what I’m doing is fanning the flames, but at this moment I no longer have any reservations.

I scrape a generous piece of cake and hold it out to him. “Have some birthday cake, Edward.”

He blinks, as though he didn’t hear me.

“Huh?”

“Open your mouth.”

Edward obliges. I feed him the cake, watching him munch in a mechanical manner. He’d probably stand on his hands if I told him to. It looks like the rational part of his brain took a holiday.

“Delicious, isn’t it?”

“Very,” he says hoarsely and swallows.

There’s a smudge of chocolate cream on the corner of his mouth. I dab it away, and that’s when he snaps.

The fork clatters on the floor. Edward gathers my face in his hands and kisses me. He tastes of dark chocolate—sweet, decadent, and utterly addictive. I kiss him back, wanting nothing but the feel of his lips on mine.

“Ow!”

Edward lets me go, his expression contrite. Somehow, we’ve ended up on the floor, my back flat against the carpet and hairpins sticking into my scalp.

“Sorry.” He helps me sit up. “Did I hurt you?”

“Terribly. My tender skin cannot withstand the pricks from these tiny hairpins.”

“Then allow me to assist you with their removal.”

He starts pulling the pins from my hair, slowly yet deliberately. Heat rises in my cheeks. Amelie and Mabel have done this countless times, but Edward’s actions are entirely different—I am acutely aware of his fingers moving over my hair and brushing against the rim of my ear, the nape of my neck, the curve of my cheek. It almost feels like he is removing my clothes. Unrestrained by the pins and hairnets, my hair springs free in thick, wavy ringlets, falling over my back and curling on my shoulders.

“I believe this is the last one.” Edward sets the hairpin on the table. I look up at him and smile. His eyes darken and he moistens his lips. He’s like a traveler who finally discovered an oasis after hours of trekking in a desert.

He tips my head and crushes his lips over mine, and this time there’s nothing gentle about his kiss. He devours my mouth with a fierce, all-consuming intensity, like he’s been waiting a lifetime for this kiss. As he closes the space between us, my head bumps against the bed post, which is made of solid black walnut and intricately carved.

“Ow!”

I rub the back of my head. First the pins, then the bed post. “Why are we sitting on the floor when there’s a bed nearby?”

His eyes crinkle with amusement. “Indeed.”

A gasp escapes me when he suddenly lifts me up in a powerful swoop. A second later, I’m lying on the bed, my hair spread over the sheets, my breath coming out in short bursts.