The landing was smooth, and as soon as the plane came to a stop, Christian packed away his laptop and stood.
“Ready?” he asked, holding his hand out to me.
I wasn’t. How could anyone be ready to walk into a world like this? But I slipped my hand into his anyway, feeling the warmth of his fingers against mine.
We stepped down the jet’s staircase into a perfect day in the Highridge Valley. The air was crisp and clean, carrying the scent of earth and ripe grapes. In the distance, a mansion rose from the top of a hill-walls pale and stately, dark roof, surrounded by lush gardens. It looked like something out of a period film.
A woman in her fifties waited beside a sleek black Land Rover.
“Mr. Kensington, welcome back,” she greeted warmly. Then her eyes shifted to me-curious, but kind. “And this must be Miss Bennett.”
Christian placed a possessive hand on my back.
“Zoey, this is Carmen, our housekeeper. She practically raised me.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, miss,” Carmen said, her voice carrying a light accent I couldn’t place. “We’ve heard so much about you.”
I forced a smile, wondering exactly what they’d heard.
“The pleasure’s mine.”
“Lunch will be served in one hour,” Carmen informed us as she led us toward the car. “I thought you might want to freshen up first.”
The drive from the airstrip to the mansion was short, but long enough to leave me even more impressed. The estate was even larger than it had looked from the air. Immaculate vineyards stretched in every direction, workers moving between neat rows of vines, and in the distance I spotted what had to be the winery itself-a cluster of buildings blending traditional architecture with sleek modern design.
When we arrived at the mansion, I was greeted by a grand entrance hall: marble floors, a sweeping double staircase, and artwork that looked like it was worth more than my entire future. Christian guided me upstairs, his hand never leaving the small of my back, as though he expected me to bolt at any second.
“This is my suite,” he said, opening a massive wooden door.
The room was bigger than most apartments. A king-sized bed dominated the center, complete with a canopy and linens that looked softer than clouds. Huge windows framed views of the gardens and, beyond them, endless vineyards stretching to the horizon. A stone fireplace warmed one corner, flanked by plush armchairs, and doors on either side hinted at a closet and a bathroom.
My bags were already there, placed discreetly near a console table.
“It’s… big,” was all I managed.
Christian smirked, clearly amused by my reaction.
“You’ll get used to it.”
I seriously doubted that.
“And where are you staying?” I asked, trying to sound casual.
He raised an eyebrow.
“Here, of course.”
My heart skipped.
“What do you mean, here?”
“Zoey, we’re engaged, remember?” He gestured toward the bed. “It would be strange if we slept in separate rooms.”
Right. How could I forget? This was a charade-but one that had to be convincing.
“But…”
My eyes flicked to the bed, and I felt my cheeks heat.
“Don’t worry,” he said, clearly entertained by my discomfort. “It’s big enough that we don’t have to touch.”
For some reason, that statement annoyed me more than it should have.
“I’m not worried,” I shot back, lifting my chin. “Just setting boundaries.”
“The famous boundaries you loved me crossing on Sunday night?”
My face burned hotter.
“Shut up!”
“As you wish.” He walked to one of the side doors, opening it to reveal a bathroom larger than my entire living room. “I’m going to grab a quick shower. Feel free to explore or rest.”
But before closing the door, he turned back to me.
“Oh, and Zoey?” His gaze swept over me quickly. “That blue blouse looks very good on you.”
And with that, he closed the door, leaving me standing in the middle of the massive suite, feeling strangely exposed.
Once Christian disappeared into the bathroom, I finally allowed myself a moment to process everything. I wandered over to the window, staring at the breathtaking view. What would it be like to grow up in a place like this? To have all of this as something normal, guaranteed?
My phone buzzed in my pocket. It was a message from Annabelle.
[Already at the palace? Send pics!]
I grinned, snapping a quick shot of the view outside the window and sending it back to her.
The reply came almost instantly.
[HOLY SHIT! Is this real?? You’re officially a princess now!]
I shook my head, slipping my phone back into my pocket. I wasn’t a princess. I was an impostor. A wedding dress salesgirl pretending to be something I wasn’t. How long until someone figured it out?
I sat on the edge of the massive bed, running my hand across sheets that felt like silk. Not even in my wildest dreams had I imagined something like this.
The sound of the shower shut off, and minutes later Christian stepped out of the bathroom. He wore only a pair of slacks, his torso still damp in places, hair slicked back from the water. I swallowed hard, memories of that night in the pool flooding back with no mercy.
“Your turn,” he said, grabbing a shirt from the wardrobe like this was something we’d done a hundred times before.
Snatching up my toiletry bag, I practically bolted for the bathroom, shutting the door behind me as if that thin barrier could put some distance between me and the walking sin just outside.
The bathroom was just as luxurious as the rest of the suite. A massive bathtub occupied one corner, the shower was big enough to fit an entire family, and the neatly arranged bath products looked like they’d been plucked straight from a five-star spa.
I showered quickly, letting the water wash away some of the tension knotted inside me. When I stepped out, I dressed carefully: a chic midi skirt and a light blouse-casual but sophisticated enough for lunch in a mansion.
Christian was waiting in one of the armchairs, scrolling through his phone. He looked up when I emerged, and something in his gaze made me feel like he was really seeing me.
“Ready for lunch?” he asked, standing.
I nodded, trying to keep the nervous flutter in my stomach under control.
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.