Backstage Romance: An Austen-Inspired Romantic Comedy Box Set by Gigi Blume (ebook reader with highlighter txt) 📕

generous to play games with me,” he said softly. “If you still feel the same way you did on New Year’s Eve, just say the word, and I’ll let you go.”

His hands, which clasped mine, rose to my arms instinctively as he said those words.

I’ll let you go.

It certainly didn’t feel like he wanted that. And neither did I. His fingers gently squeezed my arms just above the elbows. Anyone watching would think he was just the Pirate King claiming Edith as his bride. At any moment, the song would end, and we’d make our bows. The cast would disperse to greet the people who came particularly to see them. And then the theatre would empty in preparation for tomorrow’s performance. Now was the time to let him go or hold onto him forever. My eyelashes fluttered to his heavy-lidded gaze, and he swept his eyes over my features as if to cherish my image in his memory, just in case. He was so close to me, I could feel the trembling in his chest, and my heart galloped in response. I lifted my chin to study him. His gaze was ravenous yet tempered with equal parts uncertainty and hope. I wondered if I could perhaps communicate my feelings through a mere look because I didn’t think I could form the words.

Take heart. Take mine.

Would that suffice? Would he know I wasn’t only singing for the crowd? My delayed response must have been a small torment because he then said with a sliver of urgency, “I don’t want to let you go, dearest, loveliest Elizabeth.”

Aaaand he just closed the deal right there. Signed, sealed, delivered.

“Then don’t,” I said like it was the simplest thing in the world.

I breathed the words. There wasn’t enough air in my lungs to do more than that, let alone sing. The final note of the song was upon us, and the orchestra accelerated the tempo towards the grand conclusion. I could see Fitz waving his arms in exaggerated gestures behind a blur of dancing couples. It was the culmination of all our effort and struggles over the past two months. All the drama on and off stage.

Will relaxed his hold on me just enough to brush one palm to my waist and the other to the nape of my neck as his thumb grazed tenderly over my cheek. My pulse raced with the tingling sensation of his touch, each molecule of his skin on mine a tiny pinprick straight to my heart.

He dipped his head so our foreheads touched. The bridge of his nose flush against my own, and despite the extreme proximity, I could see the blurred outline of his moist eyelashes—the beginnings of soft, joyful weeping. As though suspended in time, he closed the gap between our lips and crashed into me with the most ardent of kisses.

He was rocking my world. Not just because he was kissing me senseless, but he poured his entire soul into mine. Or maybe I was hoarding it. Nevertheless, he felt it. I could tell by the way his body quivered. Or maybe by the way he slid his arm around the small of my back and pulled me flush against him with an urgency that said, ‘I will never ever let go.’

He needn't have worried. I wasn’t going anywhere.

32

Pour, Oh Pour, the Pirate Sherry

Beth

“Let me get this straight,” said Jane as we rushed to get out of costume. “You don’t hate Will Darcy?”

“No.”

“But you used to hate him?”

“Hate is a strong word,” I corrected. “Maybe more of an extremely pointed dislike.”

“Aaaand?” she prompted.

I shrugged nonchalantly. “He’s nice.”

“Hmmm,” she harrumphed. “Nice enough to kiss all through the bows.”

She was exaggerating. It was true we hadn’t noticed when the lights went down, but Bing snapped us out of it as the bows began. So yeah, we were kind of oblivious, but not more than a handful of people noticed. Then again, Will wouldn’t let go of me for his solo bow and stole another kiss before the end. In fact, when we made our way backstage, I had to promise I’d meet him in no more than five minutes just to keep him from following me in the dressing room.

I didn’t bother removing my stage makeup. Charlotte and Colin were waiting to congratulate us, and I knew Will wouldn’t wait much longer.

“See you at home?” I asked, slipping into a hoodie.

“Sure,” she replied. “I’ll chill the prosecco, and you will tell me all the details.”

“Deal. Better make it two bottles.”

I slipped out while she was still unpinning her hair and caught sight of Will leaning on the wall opposite my door. He had his arms and legs crossed casually, and his messenger bag slung across his chest. He looked like an Anthropologie billboard.

“You ready to get out of here?” he coaxed.

“Where are we going?” I asked coyly.

He reached out without taking his back off the wall and pulled me close. So close, the tip of our noses almost touched. The scent of his spearmint gum reached my senses; he’d lodged it between his molars to give me a giant grin.

“Anywhere,” he growled softly. “As long as we’re together.”

I was still reeling from the kiss of a lifetime, and now the man was playing for keeps. This was really happening.

“Hmmm… how about we start with the Patrons of the Arts reception and sneak out when no one’s looking?”

He sighed because he knew he was expected to make an appearance in the lobby. A small cocktail party was on the agenda for the most generous of patrons to meet the cast and drink overpriced champagne.

“Stay close to me?” he bade, his eyes sweeping over my features with a wishful plea. How could a girl say no to that? Not that I would.

“I will be the mongoose to your warthog,” I said with a grin.

Did I watch too much National Geographic? Maybe. Did I care if he found that odd? No. Turned out he didn’t because he smiled