“I know, right?”
“Fascinating.”
“You ready for another performance?” she says under her breath. “Show them some of that charm of yours?”
I nod.
Two hundred and fifty-seven years of practice. I can perform charm in my sleep.
“Ready as I’ll ever be,” I extend my hand, gesturing to the table. “After you.”
We’re seated close enough that our shoulders brush when Poppy reaches for her water glass. Close enough that I can smell her perfume—something floral and warm that shouldn’t work with the salt air, but it does. Close enough that I notice every time her breathing changes, every time her pulse quickens, every time she glances my way.
Yet, I keep being torn away from her to search for the danger that awaits us.
“You’re doing it again,” she murmurs, leaning into me like we’re sharing a private joke.
“Doing what?”
“Watching everything like you’re expecting an attack.”
“I’m admiring the architecture.”
“You’ve been admiring that fire exit for ten minutes.”
“It’s a very well-designed fire exit.”
She laughs—soft, just for me. “You’re ridiculous.”
“I prefer ‘vigilant.’”
“You prefer being impossible.” But her hand finds mine under the tablecloth. Squeezes. “I’m glad you came back.”
“Came back?”
“From wherever you went earlier.” She traces patterns on my palm with her finger. “This version is better.”
“This version is dangerous,” I tell her quietly. “This version wants things he shouldn’t want.”
“Like what?”
Across the table, Preston is making a show of feeding Serenity a bite of his dessert. She giggles. Catherine watches with barely concealed distaste.
I lean closer to Poppy. My lips brush her ear.
“Like more time,” I murmur. “More dinners. More chances to watch you arrange fruit at precisely thirty-seven degrees. More conversations at three in the morning when neither of us can sleep.”
Her breath catches.
“That doesn’t sound very transactional.”
“No. It doesn’t.”
“Julian—”
“Poppy!” Violet’s voice cuts across the table. “Stop flirting with your boyfriend and tell everyone about the time you got lost in Barcelona for six hours because you refused to use Google Maps.”
Poppy blushes. “It was a character-building experience.”
