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CHAPTERTWENTY-ONE
Deacon stared out the French doors of the hotel suite at the Eiffel Tower spearing the predawn sky, and he had to wonder if fate didn’t play a much bigger role in life than people thought. Too many twists and turns had taken place for Deacon’s life to all be accidental. Michael and his mother meeting here. Michael getting her pregnant. And finally, Deacon becoming partial owner and ending up right back where it had all started.
Olivia thought he’d brought her here to make her happy. And part of him had, but the other part was purely selfish. For him, coming here had been a way to cleanse away the past and move on. But after only a day, he realized that the past was as much a part of you as the present. Everywhere they went he couldn’t help thinking about his mom. Had she been as excited as Olivia to be in the city? Had her eyes lit up when she saw the Eiffel Tower for the first time? Had she gasped with amazement when she walked into the Louvre? Had she giggled with sheer happiness as she sat at the café and grown excited when she noticed the quaint little lingerie shop across the street?
The lingerie shop had been in more than one of his mother’s photographs. And Deacon had to wonder if she had been the one to bring Michael’s attention to the shop that had inspired his multi-billion-dollar company. It seemed likely. His mother had loved pretty things and would’ve enjoyed browsing through the frilly undergarments.
Thinking of pretty things, Deacon glanced down at Olivia, who slept next to him with one arm and leg sprawled over him possessively. The sight sent a wave of contentment washing over him. No, it was more than contentment. It was something deeper. He felt like he had finally come home. Not to a run-down shack on the Louisiana bayou. Or a trendy condo by a crystal-clear lake. Or a multimillion-dollar mansion on the California coast. His home had become a petite, easily distracted blonde with a pair of green eyes that melted his heart.
He hadn’t felt this happy since before his mother died, and he was in no hurry to get back to French Kiss. Or his brothers. Or his country. If Olivia wanted to stay in Paris for the rest of their lives, he would gladly do it for just one of her smiles.
That night on the balcony, he hadn’t been ready to echo her words of love. He was now. But he could wait until she was wide awake. Brushing a kiss on the top of her head, he smiled and closed his eyes. He had almost drifted off to sleep when his cell phone rang. He would’ve ignored it if he hadn’t been worried about waking Olivia. She was clearly exhausted and needed the sleep. Carefully removing her arm and leg, he rolled toward the nightstand and answered in a whisper.
“Hello.”
“Let me guess,” Nash said, “you decided to do the photo shoot of your collection at the library.”
“Real funny. Actually I’m in Paris.”
There was a slight pause. “Then you’d better get your ass on the plane ASAP ’cause we’ve got problems.”
The tone of his brother’s voice had him quickly sitting up on the side of the bed. Olivia moaned and rolled over, her hand brushing his back.
“Mmm, Deacon,” she said in a sleepy voice.
He got up and tucked the blanket around her. “I’m right here, my love. Go back to sleep.” She sighed contentedly before snuggling down into the pillow. He waited until he was in the sitting room before continuing the conversation.
“What kind of problems?”
“You’re starting to piss me off, Deacon,” Nash said. “‘My love’? You’re calling Olivia your love?”
“And what’s that to you, Nash?”
“A few weeks ago, I would’ve said nothing. But I’ve gotten to know our cousin, and I like her, Deacon. I like her a lot. She’s like this wide-eyed kid who needs a keeper.” The accurate description made Deacon smile as Nash continued. “And I don’t want to see her get hurt.”
“I don’t want to see that either.”
“Then you need to end your relationship now.” Nash paused. “Look, I get that you and Olivia are sexually attracted to each other. But don’t make it more than that, Deke. Don’t make her fall in love with you. Because if you break her heart, I’m going to have to break your face.”
Deacon walked to the windows and looked out. Fog had settled, shrouding the lattice iron of the Eiffel Tower like fresh-spun cotton candy. “What if she breaks my heart?”
There was a long pause before Nash spoke. “Are you saying you’re falling in love with her? Because if you are, then you need a reality check. Whether it’s conscious or subconscious, your infatuation with Olivia has to do with your preoccupation with her stepfather. That’s all, Deacon. And if you don’t cut it off now, things are not going to end well.”
At one time he would’ve agreed with Nash. But not now. For the first time in his life, he was thinking clearly. He wasn’t falling in love with Olivia. He loved her. He loved that she was the worst boss ever, and the best designer. He loved the way she looked in a suit and heels and the way she looked in nothing at all. He loved to make her smile and to watch her eyes light up. He loved how she zoned out, but could focus when it counted. He loved everything about her.
“You’re wrong, Nash, but I’m not going to get into it right now. Right now I want to know why you called me. Did you find out who was skimming money?”
“As a matter of fact, we did. I put a trace on Parker’s computer and discovered the account where the money is going.”
“Parker’s personal account, no doubt.”
“Actually, no. It was going into a Elsa Sanchez’s account in Mexico.”
“Who the hell is that?”
“French Kiss’s office cleaning lady.”
Deacon adjusted the phone to his ear. “The one we scared the other night?”
