Every moment with her was disturbingly right, mostly because Zacharie recognized something between them. Something he had witnessed between Calixte and Eden but never thought possible for himself.
Until now.
Until her.
In the past, his objective with every woman had been to learn everything about her—not out of affection, but out of necessity. To ensure she wasn’t positioned to stab him in the back or shoot him in the middle of the night.
But with Mira, it was the opposite.
She made him learn new things about himself.
Her clumsiness in the kitchen—spectacular, truly, involving at least one small fire and the creative destruction of three separate pans—made him realize he enjoyed cooking. It was remarkably close to how he felt when building explosives from scratch, only this time, the things he made in his hand didn’t take butgavelife instead.
Her delight in his rooftop garden, on the other hand, revealed the opposite truth. She would disappear up there for hours, returning with dirt under her fingernails and leaves in her hair, babbling happily about tomato varieties and herb propagation. Zacharie listened to every word. He also quietly resolved to hire a gardener, because as much as he loved watching her joy, he would rather not deal with clumps of soil if given the choice.
And in all the years he had possessed a massive fortune, it was only with her that he found himself enjoying it.
He bought things specifically designed to make her react—whether in pleasure or shock or that particular combination of both that made her sputter adorably.
The 24-karat gold mini shovel was a particular triumph.
He presented it to her on day four, wrapped in a velvet box like jewelry, and watched her face cycle through confusion, recognition, disbelief, and finally a kind of helpless horror that made him want to kiss her senseless.
“Zacharie.” Her voice was strangled. “This is...this is solid gold.”
“You mentioned needing better tools for the garden.”
“I meant a trowel! From the hardware store! That costs twelve dollars!”
He said nothing. Simply waited.
She stared at the shovel. Stared at him. Stared at the shovel again.
“Can you...” She bit her lip, visibly gathering courage. “Can you return it? Get a refund? Please?”
Her discomfort was adorable, and he finally relented. “There is nothing to feel guilty about. I bought this from a charity auction. The money was well spent.”
Her shoulders sagged with relief. “Oh thank good—” She stopped speaking when she noticed Zacharie eyeing the row of potted plants she had just finished watering.
“They’re, um, lovely, right?” she asked nervously.
“Seeing them reminded me of something...” Zacharie’s tone was musing. “I think I saw a couple of solid-gold pots also being auctioned for charity. Let me call my assistant—”
“Please don’t!”
Zacharie only laughed as she tried jumping and grabbing his phone, with Mira following his lead as he walked backwards until—
Perfect.
As soon as they were near enough the sofa facing the garden, he grabbed her by the waist and she fell on top of him with a gasp.
“Zach—”
He pulled her close for a kiss, and for that day at least, all thoughts of solid gold gardening were temporarily forgotten.
****
MORE DAYS PASSED, ANDMira continued to turn his world upside down just by being herself.
