Vaughn smiles. “How much did that set you back?”
Xavier chuckles. “Eh bien, who can put a price on history?”
“Papa means he’s embarrassed to tell you how much he paid for a second-hand gun,” Cerise says in a bored tone, raising a brow.
Oh, Ilikeher.
Xavier sighs, spreading his arms. “Again, who can put a price on history?” He takes a sip of wine, then his gaze settles on…
Me.
“But you’re not here to talk about guns, are you, Monsieur Bancroft?”
“I’m afraid not,” Vaughn replies.
“Yes, well, your proposed deal is well thought out,” Xavier says. “Balanced…mutually beneficial…minimal risk. I like it.”
Vaughn smiles. “I thought you might. Xavier, both our organizations have legacies woven into history itself. I believe a signed agreement between us can ensure those legacies extendfarinto the future.”
Xavier nods slowly. “Indeed.”
He’s still looking right at me.
“Then unless there are any details you wish to discuss further, I see no reason why we can’t sign this here and now,” Vaughn says. He smiles and raises his glass. “We’ve even got the proper wine to celebrate the occasion.”
Xavier chuckles quietly, still looking at me. I shift uncomfortably in my seat.
“There isonepoint I would like to discuss in further,” Xavier murmurs. “Not one that ispartof our deal. But it is…shall we say…aconditionfor that deal to proceed.”
I really don’t like the way he’s just…lookingat me.
“What condition would that be?” Vaughn murmurs.
“Did you know that my family goes back all the way to Phillip II?”
Vaughn nods. “I did. It’s an impressive pedigree.”
Xavier nods. “Oui, we are quite proud of the lineage. But long before him, the kings and lords of the territory now known as France enjoyed certain privileges.”
The room is quiet as Xavier shifts his gaze from me to Vaughn.
“I assume you’ve heard ofprima nocta?”
It’s debatable if it was ever actually a real thing, butprima nocta, or “first night” was, allegedly, the practice of a local lord being permitted to sleep with a woman on her wedding night, before her husband.
I’m no historian, obviously, but real or not, even the idea of it isgross.
I shiver when I see how tightly Vaughn’s jaw is clenched.
“I have,” he growls quietly.
Xavier smiles widely as his gaze slides back to me, and when it suddenly clicks, my stomachchurns.
“Mademoiselle Nikitin,” he says with a gleam in his eyes. “Did you know that I know your father?”
I stiffen. “I…wasn’t aware of that, no.”
He nods. “Yes. Years ago, Pavel cheated me out of a rare vintage Ferrari I was trying to purchase from one of his Russian friends.”
