CHAPTER 7
KEEP IT SIMPLE, STUPID,was the mantra Jacyn kept repeating softly to herself as she dressed for dinner. She had received a message, delivered via a servant as if text messages had ceased to exist, that Alex had asked her to come to an early dinner to meet with his mother and the rest of the family.
It had turned her into a bundle of nerves, but only for a time. She was smarter than this; bigger and better. There was no way she was letting something as simple as a family dinner unsettle her. Even though the family was worth billions and probably sprinkled gold dust over their food.
The image made Jacyn chuckle, which was good. The kind of situation she was stuck in now, she’d need a sense of humor to get through it.
“What’s so funny?” Alex asked, appearing through the main entrance to her apartment. She spun around.
He stopped a few feet from her and looked her up and down with impassive features. Making her feel like an entrant in a local pony show; every detail, every inch of her judged and assessed. She wished whatever he was thinking would show on his face.
“What?” she demanded.
“You look beautiful. Elegant.”
She’d chosen an off-white, drop-necked Chanel sheath dress that fell just above the knee, accented only by a pair of gold, tear-shaped earrings. Her red braids were twisted and piled up on top of her head, held there by simple pins. She figured that was enough for a family dinner. She was going to meet a Countess, not the Queen of England.
“Did you expect me to look awful?” she countered. “Turn up in low-riding sweatpants and a hoodie?”
“Nope,” he said, amused. “Because I was with you when we shopped, and I don’t recall any such garment being among—”
She spun around and attempted to walk off, but he caught up to her. “You going to rub in the fact that you bought me all those clothes every single day we are here?”
He grimaced as if realizing that he had offended her. “Oh,putain, non.I’m sorry,ma puce.That was my clumsy attempt at humor.” He took her hand in both of his and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I apologize. I was simply trying to let you know that you look stunning. And that you don’t need to be nervous. My mother will welcome you with open arms.”
She felt bad about her overreaction and apologized as well.
He tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow. “Come, let’s not be late.”
As they walked to the dining room, he whispered a hasty backstory to her, about how loyal his mother had been in the face of his father’s brusque, dismissive approach to child-rearing. “She protected William and me from his rages and barbs. I am grateful for that.”
Jacyn absorbed the information, eyeing him from the side. Here was another piece to the puzzle, another clue to solving the mystery that was Alexandre Dubois. Before they entered, she had one more question. “Alex?”
“Hmm?”
“What is this‘puce’you keep calling me? What does the word mean?”
His face was deadpan as he answered. “’Puce’is translated into English as ‘flea.”
“Flea?” she squawked. “You mean ‘flea’ as in nibbling on a cat’s butt?”
“Well, if you put it that way.”
“You’ve been calling me afleathis whole time?”
He brushed his lips against hers laughingly, and the contact made her regret she had even started the conversation. “That is only the literal translation, my dear Jacyn. It France, it is also a term of endearment. It is taken to mean something like, ‘my darling’, or ‘my beloved’.”
Beloved?Alrighty, then. “Don’t know which is worse,” she muttered.
His hearty laugh boomed from a place deep within his chest, and she couldn’t help but smile in response.
“Let’s go eat. I’m hungry.”
When they arrived, everyone was there except for Sofia. William stood immediately, smiling at her and, even though she offered her hand to shake, he gave her a gentle peck on each cheek. “In the south, we kiss on both cheeks,” he told her solemnly.
Jacyn found herself liking Alex’s brother. “Every time you meet?”
“Bien sûr.”