But oceans didn’t stop people like the Antonovs or the Ferraras. It sure as fuck wouldn’t have stopped the Buteras were our situations reversed.
Though I liked to think my own family would never threaten someone as innocent as Frankie or her mother.
The door behind me whisper-creaked its way open.
I didn’t even have to look to know who it was. Devin moved like a stealthy jungle cat, Alex moved like a ghost, but Frankie, even as quiet as she was, set off sirens in my awareness with her ever gentle step.
“Whatcha doing?” she asked lightly.
I turned. She stepped barefoot onto the balcony, sweater hanging off one shoulder, her lovely dark hair soft and a little frizzy from sleep. A painting. A problem. A fucking miracle.
“You,” I muttered, “should stay inside.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Why?”
“Because we’re still not secure.” I nodded to the street far below. “And because you’re supposed to be resting off the jet lag, not breathing down my neck while I work.”
Her lower lip pushed out just barely in a pout she probably didn’t realize she was using as a weapon. It hit its mark right in my chest.
“I’m on vacation,” she said. “Or I’m supposed to be. So shouldn’t I get to do whatever I want?”
A fair point. I resisted the twitch of my lips, stayed silent. Frankie went on, huffing in annoyance.
“Jonathan, this isParis. That’s the Eiffel Tower over there! And you promised you’d come with us today.”
“I didn’t promise anything,” I said automatically. My voice was sharp, a buzzkill even as I admired her tenacity. She had the makings of a perfect little brat.
“You promised whatever I wanted,” she corrected me. She stepped closer, eyes sparkling with mischief so light and pure it hurt. “And I want to explore. Withyouand Devin. And Alex, too, if he ever decides to show back up.”
I huffed, unable to stop the smile. “He’ll turn up. He always does.”
“Exactly. So you don’t need to be out here brooding over…stupid emails.” She poked my laptop with one finger. “Please? I want to see the Louvre. Or the gardens. Or literally anything that isn’t this hotel, lovely as it is.”
Devin appeared in the doorway then, leaning against the frame, arms crossed. “You’re not gonna win,” he murmured to me. “She’s been practicing her pout.”
Frankie swatted him without taking her eyes off me. “Jonathan?”
My resolve cracked like thin ice. It always did around her.
“Fine.” I snapped shut the laptop.
Her entire face lit up. For a second I forgot about threats, obligations, family expectations—everything except that smile. It was too goddamn tempting.
“Let’s get going, then,” Devin said, and we dove head first into our first day in Paris together.
I knew that the Louvre was too big to understand in a day, but it didn’t surprise me that despite my logic, my warnings that she should pace herself, Frankie tried.
She flitted between paintings and sculptures like she was tasting the entire world, an eager little honeybee collecting pollen everywhere she went.
The yellow sundress she’d thrown on with a sweater, some tights, and boots to make it a little more appropriate for this late-winter, early spring weather only added to the effect, and I was stunned by the contrast between her bright color and mine and Devin’s shared darkness.
Devin trailed her with that easy grin of his, murmuring jokes into her ear, hands brushing her waist whenever she wandered too close to a railing.
I followed behind, pretending to analyze map routes and security cameras, when really I was memorizing the way she tilted her head at a sculpture like she was trying to see its soul.
More than once, she caught me looking, and every time she’d give me that sweet blush, a shy smile, a look that made my cock hard and my heart soft all at once. God help me.
My loyalty used to be simple. My father first. The Butera organization second.
