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“I think you’ve forgotten your manners, Lancelot.” My father’s voice held an edge of ice. He could still make us feel like we were six years old and had just snuck a cookie when we’d been told to wait until after dinner.

Tony sat on Lance’s shoulder and he looked back and forth between the two of them as if he knew Lancelot had fucked up.

“I’m sorry, Pop. I was just excited.”

“Try again,” my father ordered.

“Yes, sir.” Lancelot stepped back and closed the door. A second later we heard a soft knock.

“Come in,” my father called. Lance opened the door and stepped inside. “Good evening, Pop. Remington.”

I nodded at him, biting my lip to keep from grinning at his overdone politeness.

“I have some important news,” Lancelot said.

“News about the Landrys?” Pop asked.

“Yes. I just had a very interesting meeting with a former employee of theirs.”

My father sneered. “The Landrys let former employees walk away without securing their loyalty?”

“Apparently they do.”

Pop shook his head. “Idiots. What did you learn?”

“He verified everything Clark told Niall. It looks like he’s truly turned on his family.” Relief ran through me. Confirmation that Clark wasn’t playing us was the one thing we’d wanted before the takedown.

Pop’s face screwed up in disgust. “Sniveling weakling. The world will be better without him, but was it necessary to interrupt my conversation with your brother?”

“Yes, sir. Niall also called. The gunrunners have moved up the timetable. This is all going down tonight, so we need to organize quickly.”

It was just like Lance to make such an important announcement so casually. “You couldn’t have said that first?”

Lance just shrugged.

“Gather the others,” Pop said, glancing from one of us to the other. “I’ll make our excuses to Constance and arrange for a car to take Henri home.”

“You brought him?” Lancelot asked, raising his brows and looking me up and down. You never bring dates to these things.

“I did tonight.”

He grinned. “You like him.”

“Obviously, or I wouldn’t be spending time with him.”

“No. You really like him.”

“See?” my father said. “Even Lance noticed.”

“I’ll go talk to Henri,” I said, needing to get away from them both.

My father shook his head. “There’s no need. I’ll handle everything.”

I didn’t like that at all, but if I made a big deal out of it, they’d know for sure there was a hell of a lot more between me and Henri than I was ready to admit.

32

Henri

“That’s settled then,” Remington’s stepmother said. “Would you like something to drink? Maybe some canapés?”

“Yes, please. Thank you.” We’d almost reached the house when Remington’s father stepped outside.

Marjorie rushed toward him. “What’s wrong?”

The fact that she knew something was wrong when his face showed a neutral expression and he appeared relaxed showed how deep their connection was.

“Things are moving faster than we anticipated.”

Things? What things?

“With the—” She glanced my way.

“Remington has been open with him.” How the hell did he know that? What had he and Remington talked about?

Marjorie smiled. “Good. I thought he would be.”

“He told me he wasn’t open with anyone.” The words were out before I could stop them. Here they were having some kind of crisis I didn’t fully understand, and I was being ridiculous.

Rather than being annoyed, his father smiled. “He isn’t.”

He didn’t say anymore, and I didn’t have the nerve to ask why he would tell me or how Marjorie had known he would.

“The Landrys?” she asked.

“Yes.”

The Landrys were the family Remington had been maneuvering to bring down, the ones he’d talked to Mr. Carrington about.

“Yes. It appears we need to make a move tonight, so we’ll have to excuse ourselves. I’m so sorry to leave you alone to host.”

The way his eyes filled with love made my chest tighten. That kind of love was what I longed for. Would a man ever look at me like that?

Marjorie touched his face briefly. “It’s all right. Like I told you years ago, I know what I’ve gotten into. Just be careful. Let Remington handle the mission.”

“I’m only meeting with them for advice. I told you I was out of the rougher stuff, and I meant it.”

Their goodbye kiss was achingly sweet, and they were completely unselfconscious about being tender with each other in front of me. I thought of how Remington had held my hand as we’d walked through New Orleans, how he didn’t care who saw us together. Did he want what his parents had? I sure as hell did.

“I told Remington we would see that Henri was taken home and well guarded.”

What? Did that mean I wouldn’t see Remington again. What if he… No, I couldn’t think that way. It didn’t matter if I didn’t tell him goodbye. He’d be coming back. Whatever plan he’d devised would succeed, and he would come home to me.

33

Remington

I hated the sudden change of plans. I’d intended to go over everything again tomorrow and drill everyone on their roles. The timing was too important for anyone to fuck it up.

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