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“Not by choice. Your brother is the puppet master in this.” He tucks a braid behind my ear. “You’ll find out soon enough, I promise.”
“At least tell me you’ll spend that weekend with me.”
“If the trade-off is worth it to you, then I’m in.”
“It’s worth it,” I whisper, my attention stalling on his mouth.
With pure need weighing down his eyelids, he trails his thumb across my bottom lip. “You’d better go.”
An eternity seems to pass, in which I’m caught in the allure of his stare, intoxicated from his salty thumb on my lips. Keeping my distance is going to be torture, but it’s paramount in ensuring we don’t get into trouble again. I slip out of his studio and hurry down the hall toward my own.
The end of this month can’t arrive quick enough.
9
The next week whizzes by in a flurry of finalizations, last minute prototypes, abundant frustration, and too many tears to count. It’s a grueling process, catching up for lost time in the studio, so when Elise drops by midweek, offering an afternoon outing of lunch and shopping, I can’t turn down such a tempting invitation.
Landon’s driver takes us to the village, where we enjoy a spread of Parisian cuisine at a boutique café Elise discovered last month. After sharing small talk and too many lulls in conversation over lunch, we stroll down the sidewalk in the shopping district, heeled boots crunching on a blanket of colorful leaves. The overcast sky threatens to shower on us, but the breeze is light, the temperature a tad above chilly, and for the first time since I returned to Zodiac Island from Liam’s safe haven off the coast of South America, I feel the burden of my circumstances lift from my shoulders by a small degree.
It’s these unobtrusive moments that mean the most—a meal shared with a friend, an afternoon away from the domineering testosterone in the tower, the simplicity of a leisurely walk while enjoying the autumn air.
If only Elise weren’t so quiet today. I eye her for the fifth time since we left the restaurant, and my concern grows with each shop she passes without so much as a glance at the display window. If there’s one thing Elise loves, it’s shopping.
“How’s married life?” I ask, keeping my voice nonchalant as I stop in front of a jewelry store. A ruby necklace sits on display, and the piece reminds me of the Heart of the Queen.
“Married life is wonderful.” She halts at my side and gestures at the necklace. “You should try it on.”
“Maybe another time.” Just the sight of the gaudy jewel takes me back to Mr. Bordeaux’s month. Willing my heart rate to slow, I move on toward the next shop, which happens to be a baby boutique. “Want to go in and look around? I haven’t gotten you a gift for the baby yet.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“Of course I’m going to shower you with gifts, Elise. The birth of your first child is a momentous occasion that should be celebrated.”
To my horror, she bursts into tears. After my shock abates, I ignore the curious looks of passersby and usher her across the street to a deserted park. A pavilion gives us cover from the first rain of the day as we claim one of the benches.
“What’s wrong?” I grip her cold hand between my own.
“Nothing.” She wipes the moisture from her rosy cheeks. “It’s just hormones.”
“It’s more than hormones. You’ve been quiet all day.” I squeeze her hand. “I know I haven’t been there for you lately, and I’m so sorry about that, but I’m here now.”
“I don’t deserve your friendship.”
A heavy moment of disquiet sneaks by. “Of course you do. Why would you say such a thing?”
As she pulls her hand away, her gaze lowers to the ground. “I-I guess I’ve been going through a phase of feeling unworthy. It really is just hormones.”
“You’ve been through a lot. You’re allowed to have bad days.”
“There have been a lot of them lately. I don’t know how Landon puts up with me.”
“He adores the ground you walk on.”
“He shouldn’t.” She exhales on a sigh. “God, listen to me. I didn’t mean to turn this into a pity party, especially after everything you’ve been through.” The breeze blows her bangs into her face, and she pushes back the wayward blond strands. “How are things going in the House of Scorpio?”
“I don’t want to talk about me.” She’s changing the subject, and we both know it.
“I get that, but I need the distraction right now. The baby’s been kicking a lot, I’m peeing all the time, and I’m tired and emotional.” A hint of a smile pulls at her lips. “At least one of us got to drink at the ball. I think you had enough champagne for the both of us.”
