“True,” Vic agreed as she stuffed half a croissant in her mouth and thought of her mother’s demeanour lately. She hadn’t had a personality change. She’d simply gone from using her meddling, intrusive, and underhanded ways to try to keep them apart to applying all those same attributes toward trying to make their relationship official, and therefore easier to promote. She’d accepted nothing short of a by-the-book public courtship period, followed by a short engagement and a full onslaught of wedding publicity that she intended to spin as part of a larger PR campaign to rebrand them as the face of modern nobility. “Then again, maybe she’s still exacting her revenge in the form of wedding-planning-themed torture.”

“Fair.” Sophia stood up and fastened the buttons on the cuff of her silk shirt.

Vic stemmed a surge of attraction. She’d grown used to them over their time together but never grew immune. They came any time of day, in any company, and could be triggered by even the most mundane moments or movements. If Sophia stretched herself awake in the morning, Vic wanted to kiss her. If Sophia practiced pouring the perfect gin and tonic, Vic had the urge to kiss her. If Sophia stood in the courtyard behind a camera dolly with her face turned toward the sun and her hands on her hips, Vic could hardly contain the desire to kiss her.

She surrendered to the impulse now, slipping her arm around Sophia’s waist and putting her into a lip lock before she could even process, much less protest.

Then again, nothing about Sophia’s reaction suggested she had any inclination to protest. She melted into Vic with a supple sexiness that raised the temperature in the room several degrees. Sophia’s lips parted, welcoming Vic deeper. The now familiar press of their bodies warmed her even as a cool bit of morning air hit her exposed midriff. It took her another hazy second or two to realise that part of her body hadn’t been bare a moment earlier, but Sophia must have tugged her top loose as her hands began to wander.

She groaned as she took Sophia’s bottom lip between her teeth. They were going to be late . . . again. It wasn’t that she wanted to show up completely dishevelled and frantic every morning, but she also didn’t want to miss any chance to kiss this woman, or to miss an opportunity to let those kisses devolve into the type of activity that made them both lose track of time.

A sharp knock on the door jolted them apart, and her entire body sagged in frustration even as her mind realised the interruption might be for the best.

She jammed the hem of her shirt into the waist of her trousers and granted permission for the knocker to enter.