She wasn’t thinking about how much he could cost her. She wasn’t thinking about what would happen if he lost his high-and-mighty position. No. His wife was pissed that he’d been a dumbass and walked out on her.
She put her champagne glass down, and Rene knew everyone was watching but he didn’t care.
He never followed his impulses. He’d been trained to follow rules rather than instincts, but he was done with that.
It was a gorgeous night, and she was everything to him and always had been. The rest didn’t matter. He moved past everyone else, didn’t bother to reply to the people who called out his name, didn’t have eyes for anyone but her.
Before she could start what would likely be a long lecture, he wrapped his arms around her and brought her close.
“Forgive me.”
He felt a shudder go through her. “Rene . . . of course. Of course.”
He had so much to tell her, but he would start with the most important thing. “I love you, Sylvie. I’m sorry I didn’t say it before. I didn’t think I knew what the words meant, but I love you. I’ve loved you since we were kids. I’m sorry I let too many things come between us, including my pride.”
She pulled back enough that he could see her crying. She cupped his cheeks. “I love you, too. You cannot walk out on me like that ever again.”
“Never. I promise you.” He drew her close and he could breathe again. He swayed to the music, the rest of the world falling away. He didn’t dance with her enough. When all this was over, he would take her to Guidry’s when they had a band playing, and they would drink and dance with her friends. He would make her his highest priority.
“What are you doing? We should go talk to your aunt,” she whispered. “Charles has been kissing her butt all night long.”
“We’re dancing,” he whispered back. “And my aunt doesn’t matter.”
“I know Charles said he could hurt me, but I promise you he can’t. Whatever he said was a lie,” Sylvie replied.
“Would you stay with me if I didn’t have a job and I didn’t have the Darois money and I didn’t have the house?” He knew the answer because he knew this woman. He’d always trusted her, but he was starting to trust the idea of “them.”
Sylvie laid her head on his shoulder. “I would stay with you if you had nothing at all. I will never leave you.”
“Then let me do what I need to do.”
She went on her toes and pressed her lips to his. “All right.”
He stayed as they were, swaying to the music and holding the whole world in his arms. Maybe this would have gone differently if he hadn’t seen that picture of himself, that little boy whose true joy had been off camera but never forgotten. Maybe he could have held on to his sense of self-sacrifice if he hadn’t seen Gabriel and realized he wasn’t the only one in this cycle.
But he had, and now he realized he owed his wife more than what he’d been willing to give her before.
When the song was over, he kissed her one more time and took her hand. He turned to face the crowd that was watching. Aunt Roberta was sitting in the place of honor, holding court like the queen she thought she was. Charles was sitting right next to her, but he stood as Rene turned their way.
Rene held a hand up to forestall whatever Charles was going to say. “Don’t bother, cousin. I intend to honor our deal. Aunt Roberta, I married Sylvie Martine under false pretenses, and our marriage was meant to trick you.”
Roberta gazed at them over her glasses. “You seem very comfortable for a man with a fake marriage.”
“Oh, I fully intend to stay married to this woman for the rest of my life, but I did tell her I needed a wife to trick you.” Rene felt Sylvie’s hand in his and it gave him strength. “Also, maybe to trick her a little. I think she would have put me off for at least another month.”
Sylvie snorted, an oddly delicate sound. “I was going to put you off forever. You made me feel sorry for you.”
He glanced down and her lips were curved up in a secretive smile. “I intend to use your soft heart to keep you chained to me.”
“Are you sure you want to do this?” She didn’t bother to whisper the question. “We can fight.”
“Serving this family shouldn’t be a fight.” It was what he’d decided in that moment when he’d seen her standing there.
Roberta stood, showing off her well-tailored but fussy suit that would better fit into a Sunday morning service than a poolside party, but then the Darois family didn’t do casual. “Rene, what is this about? First, you’re late to my party.”