Master Me
CHAPTER ONE
Savannah
Paris.
Is.
Awesome.
I draw in a deep breath, close my eyes, and release it. The warm rays of the setting sun kiss my skin like a blessing, and I am here for it.
“Nicolette, I swear, the Parisian air smells different. It’s just so… cleansing.” It helps that we’re eating dessert in one of Paris’s finer restaurants, bathed in the scent of cheese and wine. One of the cool things about Parisians is that they eat cheese literally any time of day, but most especially as a little palate cleanser between dinner and dessert. On the table in front of me sits a half-eaten plate of crème brûlée, a dessert that’s as fun to eat as it is to say.
“It’s not exactly fragrant in the metro,” Fabien mutters with a grimace. True, true.
Nicolette smiles at me and winks.
Her husband can be grouchy, but he’s good to her, and that’s all that matters. Hell, I think the whole grouchiness thing runs in the family, because his brother Thayer’s not exactly a ray of sunshine.
With him it’s somehow…hot,though. All that brooding male power and testosterone. He oozes power with those corded, finely honed muscles, and that firm jawline I want to lick?—
I catch that stray thought before it gets me into some serious Parisian trouble.
I decide I don’t care, not about grouchiness or what it would take to soothe that line on Thayer’s brow, or anything that might tamper with my current state of mind, because Nicolette and I are seriously living the life. The French are responsible for the phraselaissez-faireafter all.
We live in Paris now. Thanks to my sister we’ve got more money in our bank account than I ever thought possible, and I’m in grad school.
What could go wrong?
“Savannah,” Nicolette says in that big sister tone I’ve learned to dread.
“Mmm?”
“We have to talk.”
Uh oh.
I try to avert the crisis of a serious conversation. I lean back and close my eyes, basking in the setting rays of the sun. “Girl, do not harsh my mellow.”
My sister raises an eyebrow. “Don’t harsh your what?”
“My mellow, babe. I am loving life, and I am not in the mood for a lecture.”
“When are you ever in the mood for a lecture?”
I open one eye to look at Nicolette, whose own eyes are twinkling at me. She reaches over and tugs my hair, just like she used to when we were little, and smiles. Ever since our parents died, Nicolette’s matured, and she takes her job as big sister pretty seriously. “I wasn’t gonna lecture you. I just want to… talk.”
I stifle a groan. I’m not sure there’s much of a distinction between lecture and talk, but okay.
I know Nicolette’s concerned for me. I know she worked her ass off to earn the money we have, and though I don’t know the intricacies of it all, I suspect it had something to do with Fabien’s business in Paris and south of here in Corsica.
What he does isn’t exactly legal, but sometimes ignorance is bliss. Since I like bliss, I’ve chosen ignorance.
“Alright, then,” I say, steeling myself. I sit up straighter and give Nicolette my undivided attention. I fold my hands in front of me. “What shall we discuss?”
I shoot a quick glance at Fabien, hoping he’s busy on his phone or something. He’s more of the lecture type, and his input will definitely change the course of this conversation. No such luck.
