A Dove's Tale

Chapter 169

One day left.

One more day of being alone with Chevalier, far from the palace, distractions, and responsibilities.

And I wanted to do the laundry.

It was the growing pile of dirty sheets in the corner of our bedroom. Chevalier knew better than to let me take it to the laundry, or even show me where the laundry room was, but I'd explored the chateau over the past few days, opening all the closed doors and peeking into the rooms we neither needed nor used, familiarizing myself with the layout for the next time we came to visit. And I'd found it myself. It had taken everything in me not to rush back to our bedroom, scoop up that pile, and take it there for immediate washing. But Chevalier was adamant that I was no longer his maid, and he didn't want me acting like one, no matter how much I insisted one load of laundry wouldn't hurt anything. He seemed to think I wouldn't stop at just one.

He was probably right.

And that was probably why I found him changing the sheets when I left the bathroom that morning.

"Oh, you didn't have to do that," I said, surprised. "But thank you."

He cast a sideways glance and a smirk at me. "It isn't difficult," he replied.

If I didn't know him, I would have taken offense to that statement. But I knew him quite well, and I knew he had to turn everything into an opportunity to tease me.

Not that I minded.

I crossed my arms over my chest and leaned against the doorframe. "Are you insulting my abilities?" I asked, playing along.

"I'm complimenting mine," he replied.

It really wasn't fair that he hadn't put a shirt on yet. Watching the muscles in his back flex and stretch as he made a bed neat enough to put any maid to shame had my heart pounding crazily. I swallowed to work enough saliva into my mouth so I could say, "Then maybe you'd like to make breakfast this morning."

He straightened up and hit me full on with that smug smirk and an unobstructed view of his chest. "No."

I'd never understood Theresa's obsession with the male body until I became intimately acquainted with Chevalier's. Add to that his one-sided smile, those sparkling crystal blue eyes, and that messy pale blonde hair, and I had an obsession all my own, drawing me like a magnet to his bare skin and the thrill that came with touching him. I was already doing it now without a thought, walking my fingers up his chest and sliding one arm around his waist, the butterflies flitting erratically around my stomach as his arm wrapped around my waist and pulled me closer. My fingers reached his collarbone, and his tilted my chin up so I could drown in my favorite shade of blue and his warm, soft lips.

There was no such thing as a simple good morning kiss.

I rested my head on his chest, sighing contentedly as his arms encircled me. "This is our last day here."

"Yes, it is."

"I'm not sure I want to go."

He chuckled, a deep rumble echoing from his chest through my ear. "You have been getting more restless every day."

"Only because you won't let me do anything," I complained teasingly.

"I won't let you act like a servant," he corrected me, stroking my hair. "You're a queen now. There are other ways to occupy your time."

I smiled knowingly up at him. "My being a queen has nothing to do with it."

I really loved his smile.

"No, it doesn't," he confessed, and then he scooped me up and headed into the hallway.

"I can walk!" I protested, throwing my arms around his neck. "Or am I not allowed to do that now, either?"