The Billionaire's Regret
Salma muttered.
“No,” Poppy said quickly. “I’m a Captain Princess.”
I closed my eyes again. “Yeah. That’s much more comforting.”
+++
Breakfast was served in a smaller dining room, warmer than the formal one from last night. Tall windows opened toward the garden, and morning light came through the cypress leaves, falling across a round table with a white cloth, delicate porcelain, fresh fruit, eggs, warm bread, honey, and—of course—croissants.
Poppy stopped in the doorway. “Castle breakfast,” she whispered, deeply satisfied.