I’ll Always Be With You (Lancaster Prep Book 4)

TWO YEARS later

I STAND on the peripheral of the ballroom dance floor, watching my fiancée talking with a group of people, her lips curved into the biggest smile I think I’ve ever seen. She laughs at something her cousin Crew says to her, covering her mouth for the briefest moment. The four-carat pink diamond that sits on her left ring finger flashes in the light that shines down upon us from the glittering chandeliers above.

I gave her that ring only a month ago, on New Year’s Day in Paris. Down on one knee like the sap I am for her in our hotel suite at the George V, my nerves shot to shit when I asked her to marry me. Like I was worried she’d say no.

She didn’t.

Carolina hugs her cousin, her head swiveling slowly, as if she’s looking for someone. The moment her gaze settles on me, her smile grows and she starts toward me, crossing the room. She’s extra beautiful tonight, wearing a strapless pale pink dress that matches the ring. It’s covered in multiple layers of ostrich feathers and hits just above her knees, a silver crystal band wrapped around her waist. She glides across the wide expanse of the ballroom, the feathers fluttering in the breeze, and when she’s finally standing in front of me, I hook my arm around her waist and bring her in close, pressing my lips to hers in a soft kiss.

“You are beautiful,” I murmur against her lips, which are slicked in a pale pink the same shade as her dress.

She pulls away slightly, laughing. “That is the tenth time you’ve told me that.”

“I can’t get over you in that dress.” I pull away slightly, my gaze eating her up. Her shoulders gleam, there’s a hint of cleavage on display, and all I can suddenly think about is when can we leave so I can get her naked.

“It’s so fabulous.” She pulls out of my hold completely and does a spin, the feathers moving with her. “My most favorite costume yet.”

I smile at her. “Costume?”

“So much of my life has felt like a performance. As if it were all fake,” she admits, her blue eyes going wide. “But the best thing about what we share is that it’s real. All of these things are really happening to me. To us.”

Carolina lifts her glass full of pink champagne in a toast. I do the same.

“To us.” I touch my glass to hers before I take a drink and she does the same.

I will never get over how those words sound.

“Aw, you two.”

We both turn to find my mother smiling at us, the happiness on her face undeniable. She’s come a long way from the sad woman who lost so much. She has a solid group of friends. She’s traveling a lot and she’s even met someone. Maurice is her boyfriend. He’s wealthy—he owns a chain of dry cleaners in New York and New Jersey, and he makes my mother laugh. Something my father really didn’t do, especially during those last few years.

I just want her happy and I think she is. Which in turn makes me happy.

“You look stunning, Carolina,” Mom gushes, wrapping her up in a big hug before she pulls away holding on to Carolina’s hands so she can examine her closely. “And that dress! So gorgeous.”

“Isn’t it beautiful? It’s Dolce and Gabbana,” Carolina says, and Mom nods her approval.

With Sylvia Lancaster’s death, my mom has sort of stepped in and become a mother figure to my fiancée. I love that they get along so well. Everything has come together so beautifully the last few years.

Carolina and I embarked on traveling the world since she left her dance company. We’ve been all over the place. Europe and Asia. South America. Before we left France, she confessed to me that she was tired of traveling.

“I want to put down some roots,” she confessed, her gaze on her hand and that pink diamond. “Plus, now there’s a wedding to plan …”

I agreed because I feel the same way. It’s been an adventure, traveling with Carolina, but I’m tired of it too. We need a break, so we’ve moved back to the city, in an apartment that belongs to the Lancaster family. They own so many all over the city, we only had to pick and choose, and Carolina fell in love with the brownstone that’s not too far from where her cousin Crew lives with his wife, Wren. We’ve been spending more time together lately, the four of us meeting up for dinner at least once a week since our return to the States.

And Whit’s nonprofit is finally about to launch—and we’re helping with it. We’re both on the board, as well as Sylvie and Summer. It’s an important endeavor for all of us and I’m proud to be a part of it.

Carolina is too.

“I adore the dress,” Mom says, bringing me back to our—their—conversation. “So, I wanted to ask you, Carolina …”

Her voice drifts and Carolina frowns. “Ask me what?”

“Is it true, that you’re wanting to open a dance studio and start teaching classes?”

Carolina glances over her shoulder at me before she turns to face my mother once more. “Actually … yes. I thought it might be fun, to offer a few classes. Nothing too strenuous. Beginning ballet and some barre exercise sessions a couple of times a week. I’ll be busy with my brother’s nonprofit, so I can only do this part-time.”

“I think offering dance classes is a great idea. I would love to sign up as soon as you have some available,” Mom says.

“You’re just saying that.” Carolina rolls her eyes.

Always trying to tear down her worth, still. She doesn’t see the sincerity shining in my mother’s eyes.

“No, I’m not. And I have plenty of friends who would enjoy a class like that too. West mentioned you’ve already leased a studio.”

Cat is out of the bag, I want to tell Carolina, but I remain quiet.

“Well, isn’t he revealing all my secrets.”

They chat for a few minutes longer before Mom is whisked away by her boyfriend. The moment she’s gone, Carolina is on me, giving me an earful.

“I can’t believe you already told your mother about the studio.”

I shrug. “I knew she’d want to be a part of it. And not just because of who you are to me. She loves you. And she’s always talking about how she wants to find her core.”

Carolina smiles. “The best way to find it is doing ballet.”

“That’s what she said.” I slip my arm around her waist, leaning in to kiss her cheek. “My mom is proud of you. I’m proud of you. And you’re going to end up with a bunch of high society ladies in your dance class, hoping to relive their youthful days from ballet class. Just watch.”

She smiles up at me, her eyes shiny. Like she might cry at any moment, which is the last thing I want. “Thank you for always believing in me.”

How could I not? She always believes in me too. No matter what I say or do. “I love you,” I murmur, drifting my fingers across her cheek.

“I love you, too.” She turns her head, delivering a quick kiss to my palm before she tilts her head back, smiling at me, circling her arms around my waist. I think of the girl I first met, who pretended to speak French and didn’t want me to touch her. She’s a completely different woman now.

I’d like to think I had something to do with that, but I know the truth.

Carolina came into herself on her own.

I’m just the lucky man she also happens to be in love with.