Royally Kissed | ✓

46; the sickeningly hopeful

She then nodded and cast a cursory glance at his Blancpain Le Brassus–a watch where one could see the inner workings of the timepiece, and a brown alligator leather for its strap. It was her Christmas present for him since she was fully acquainted of him not going out of his bachelor pad without a piece around his wrist; as if he'd feel naked roaming about without one. She made no fuss about it, of course. It always blended well together with his hair and suit and tie, adding a sleek and sophisticated flair to his masculinity.

"Don't you have a meeting? You have five minutes before 1, sir," she said in faint amusement, lifting up a smug smile when his eyes widened as he studied his watch. "Go on. Malcolm's just around the corner, you don't have to drive me back to campus."

He almost looked constipated. "Are you sure? I can move it to 2 or something, though. Tell them there's an emergency."

"Thanks for comparing me to an unexpected crisis." She crossed her arms and arched her eyebrows. "Of course not. You'd look unprofessional. See, we have cameras around. They'd eventually know what you're doing about so making up excuses would be useless."

Paige frowned when he simply cracked a wicked smile. "Doing about, huh?"

When she realized the implications of his words that were rooted from hers in the first place, she blinked minutely and shot out her hand with a defensive flourish; certain that her stark horror was coming through her cheeks in a flaming cerise tinge.

"That's not what I meant!" She whacked his arm when he snorted, only to turn it into a low chuckle. She was annoyed at him, but she was more frustrated at the fact that his laugh sounded more seductive as time went by. "You're a dirty cad."

His smirk widened. "Sometimes, I don't know how to make my way around with you when you're being enormously innocent. It's cute, potato. Sexy, even."

She squinted at him rather umbrageously. But it was impossible to appear indignant when her face was swollen in flames. "How can a potato even be sexy?"

"Have you heard about a 'hot potato'?"

Rolling her eyes, she shook her head and raised her hand to a waiter. "Whatever. You have to go now."

When they were outside, with the attempt of ignoring the media a couple of distance away since Malcolm and Mstsislav were blocking them from practically hogging her and Owen, he kissed her on the cheek as usual.

"I'll make it up to you next time, I promise," he told her.

With a slight nod, Paige reached up to his collar and fixed it rather haphazardly before sliding her hand aside on his shoulder. "Take care."

He ended it with a sloppy wave of his hand, saying a quick thanks to the valet attendant before sliding into the driver's seat. "I love you," he mouthed to her, and she fluttered up a smile, unable to say it back, yet. And Owen was fine with it.

In the depths of her core, she realized she'd fallen for him when they were younger. And even now, Owen had still taken a special place in her heart where it had been in a deep slumber long before. But things were difficult now–not when Arthur would cage himself in her thoughts every now and then. One day, though, she was certain that she would learn to completely love Owen back.

Because he was the man she could give her whole heart to.

"So when are you going to tie the knot, Ms Paige?" one man from the paparazzi suddenly asked and she shook her head, giving him an odd look.

Brushing the question off, she jerked her chin at Malcolm and he quickly got the hint. And very soon, they were already peeling away from the driveway.