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I open my mouth, unsure what to say for a moment. “That’s strange,” I murmur, frowning at the ticket. “Can you try it again?”

“Here, ma fleur,” says a familiar voice at my side. “Try mine.”

Étienne leans over my shoulder, gives the guard an easy smile, and holds out a ticket of his own.

He must have cast an illusion over mine.

Where had he come from? I bite my lip to keep from sounding startled, then nod at the guard, as if I’d always expected Étienne to do this. Inside, my stomach turns. He’s in an elegant winter coat today, and snow dusts his golden-brown hair. His eyes are bright with mirth, his face illuminated, and I find myself wondering grudgingly how he can always look this polished.

The guard scans Étienne’s ticket, which flashes green.

I grit my teeth. “What did you do?” I hiss at him.

“Not off to the best start, are you?” he murmurs casually.

Before I can protest, he loops his arm around my waist and gives the officer a polite nod. To my dismay, my entire body prickles with pleasure at his touch. “Can you check my girlfriend’s ticket again?” he asks innocently. “I don’t know why it doesn’t work, when we bought them at the same time.”

The guard, also confused, mumbles something to her companion.

“What the hell?” I whisper to Étienne.

“I’m going easy on you,” he whispers back. “But I can’t promise the same, once we’re inside.”

The guard comes back over to us. “Date day?” she says, glancing at him.

He winks at her. “My favorite kind of day,” he says, giving the woman a bashful smile.

She nods behind her at the museum’s halls. “Should be a real treat for you both.”

“I’ll say,” he explains, and looks down at me fondly. “She’s a researcher. Art PhD from Harvard.” I stare at him, trying not to laugh out loud, but he maintains such a serious face that even I almost believe it. Regent of Lies, indeed. “She’s been waiting for months to see this exhibition.”

“Wow,” the guard says. “Congrats on the credentials.”

Screw the other challenges. When this test is done, I’m going to claim Étienne’s soul. “Ah—thanks,” I say, smiling sweetly at the officer and looping my arm through my insufferable companion’s. “It’s been—a lot of work.”

Étienne leans toward the officer conspiratorially. “She’s the one who asked me out,” he says.

“How sweet!” she says warmly to me. “Seems like you picked a real winner, honey.”

I smile so hard at her that my cheeks hurt. At last, the officer exchanges a nod with her partner and waves us both through. “Have a good tour,” she tells us. “And best of luck with your research. The collection’s quite the find.”

“Thanks ma’am, appreciate it!” Étienne calls over his shoulder as he takes me by the hand and leads us around the soaring main staircase and into the first hall. As we leave the security gate behind, I yank my hand from him.

“Is ‘Art PhD from Harvard’ even a thing?” I snap at him.

He shrugs. “I’m sure it is.”

“A little over the top, don’t you think?”

“You could just thank me,” he replies, “for helping you out.”

“Like hell you did. You messed with my ticket.”

“All part of the test, ma fleur.” He smiles, then takes my hand again and makes a show of kissing it. The touch of his lips sends a pleasurable tickle up my neck. I’m forced to accept the gesture, as we’re still close to the guards, but the instant they look away, I scowl at him.

“And what about me asking you out first?” I demand.

“That wasn’t a lie so much as a hypothetical. I imagined, hypothetically, that you would ask first, were we in that situation.”