10. Anna

Anna

A n alarm blares, and I groan, opening one eye at a time. There's a large bookcase in view and two strong arms holding me tightly from behind. We're no longer in the dream, and I'm in his flat—it worked!

I swat at the alarm clock to quiet it, only to notice a picture frame next to it that I didn't notice before. Squinting to make it out, my eyes suddenly fly wide when I realise it's James and me, and I'm wearing a white gown.

A wedding?

As I reach for the photograph, a glimmer of metal on my left hand catches my attention. I pause, twisting my hand to get a better look; it's a white gold band with an ornate vine of sorts but no diamonds. I glance at the photo again, and it's not from an elopement; it's a professional wedding picture.

What the fuck is happening?

I shift in James' arms to wake him. "James?" He holds me tighter, kissing my forehead. "James, wake up. Something's wrong."

He blinks awake, a wide grin painting his face. "You're still here."

"What is this?" I hold up my left hand. His smile dissipates as a frown pinches his brows. As he takes my hand to examine it, I spot a matching band on his left ring finger. "Shit. Did we get married? Are we married to each other? Are we cheating on our spouses? What?—"

James kisses me to end my spiral, and I can't help but melt into him as our tongues tangle. I'm certain I'm in a dream within a dream, until he pulls me on top of him, keeping me close. He slides his hands up my thighs, sending shivers down my spine. I can't seem to figure out where fiction ends and reality begins, but this feels real .

Whatever I'm wearing is made of rougher fabric than I'm used to. I press on his chest to lift up and examine what the hell I'm actually wearing, but he pulls me back to him, making both of us chuckle. "James, what year is it?"

"I don't fucking care."

While he won't allow me to move, I'm able to get a glimpse at his clothes, and I gasp, "You're wearing a coat! Why are you wearing a coat in bed?"

His gaze falls to his white linen shirt and black coat. "Did we attend a party?"

I'm finally able to scramble out of his hold, and I'm wearing the dark green dress from the dream. I inspect it closer and shake my head. "None of this makes sense. This is your room, there's a wedding photo on the nightstand, and we're wearing what we wore in the dream."

My phone chimes and vibrates on the table, and I dismount the gorgeous man to retrieve it. There's a new text message from Jen and one an unknown number. It's probably spam this late at night— or is it morning?

Jen

Hope you have an amazing anniversary dinner! Tara and I can't wait for brunch tomorrow to hear all about it.

Dinner? Tara?

I click the other message.

Unknown

I warned you, Anna.

Enjoy your prince, Miss Anna.

Kathryn?

There's also a link to a book published by the same author who wrote Undeclared Heir , titled Undecided Heiress . I click on it, and there is no listing for her original title. Swiping back to the original page, I read the synopsis—James and Anna live happily ever after.

Another message comes in from the unknown number with a link to my social media account, but my last name is changed, and the profile picture is of James and I kissing.

"What is it?"

I don't look up from my phone as I reply, "I'm not sure. But, I think we're married." James carefully takes my phone from me and swipes through a few photographs, his smile growing wider with each one. "Are we?"

He sits up and tosses the phone onto the bed, pulling me onto his lap. "Yes, it appears so, my dearest Anna. I believe this is what romance readers would call ‘the epilogue.'"

"Will there be butt stuff?"

"What?" he chuckles.

"Will there be butt stuff?" I repeat, biting my lip to stifle my giggles.

James grips my ass to pull me closer. "A finger in your bum wasn't enough? You're too tight for my cock, love."

"You don't know that! It was just a dream!"

There's a buzz of his entry bell. "Ah, dinner is here. Tell you what, my beautiful wife, let's eat, then figure out why the hell I'm wearing trousers with a waist that reaches my pecs. Once that's sorted, I intend to properly consummate this marriage of ours… including claiming this perfect ass of yours."

I kiss him softly, unable to hide my smile a moment longer. His languid kisses are the only promise I need, and while the memories we've conjured aren't entirely my own, it's a problem I'll deal with another day.