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William smiled. “I read the financial news just as you do,mon frère.I’m a businessman too, remember? I don’t only manage papa’s properties and look after the château.

The unspoken words, Alex knew, were,Like you should have been helping to do these past ten years.

Like hell, he thought. But he exerted control over the timber of his voice and said, “Yes, we’re looking to take Sapphire into the East. Hong Kong and Tokyo, to begin.”

“I’ve made some excellent contacts in Japan,” William remarked. “They can cut through red tape like a katana. Let me know and I’ll introduce you.”

“Mai oui. Thank you.”When they start selling snow cones in Hell for 50 cents,Alex thought.

He shifted in his seat, feeling besieged. On one side there was William, doing the whole ‘big brother’ routine, and on his other, there was Sofia, who hadn’t stopped batting her inch-long lashes at him.

“Mmmm,” she announced, closing her eyes and tilting her head back as she moaned in exaggerated pleasure. “These roast artichokes are divine. Have you tried them, Alex?”

“No, I’m not crazy over—”

Her fork was already hovering near his lips, with a morsel of the creamy vegetable on the tip of it. “Try some!”

“I don’t eat artichokes, Sofia—”

The fork came closer, and he half expected her to start making helicopter noises, as you did to a stubborn baby. “Just one bite—”

“Sofia.” That one word from William was all it took. She put her fork down onto her plate and sulked.

To Alex’s chagrin, all eyes were upon him. His mother curious: his brother irritated, his niece gaping. As for Jacyn, her eyes were piercing and shrewd.

When dinner was finally over, he thanked the gods.

The knock on his door came an hour later, just as Alex had changed into comfortable sweats and a T-shirt, ready to watch a rebroadcast of an earlier football game before bed. He rose, irritated, because he’d left strict instructions that he didn’t require turndown service from the staff. He was now a grown man who hadn’t availed himself of that amenity since he’d left France.

Curious, the little things you could do without.

But it was Jacyn, hovering anxiously. She, too, was ready for bed, in a ratty old nightgown—one of her few personal articles of clothing that she’d insisting on bringing. It was worn thin in places and the hem sagged, but he understood why she would want to cling to this comforting reminder of home.

It was also weird that he found it oddly arousing.

“Jacyn?” he called as she slid inside. She looked a little worried, and he found himself concerned. “What is it?”

“Alex, I just had a great time talking to your mom and Willa!”

There was a ‘but’ in there, he was sure. He frowned a little, prompting her to continue, “And yet you seem upset.”

“I am!”

He led her deeper into his suite, sighing, trying to retain his patience. He was, without any braggadocio, good at bedding women, but understanding them? Bah. “Forgive me, Jacyn, but I don’t–.”

“Ilikethem. They’re beingniceto me. And asking all kinds of questions. Like about the wedding date.”

“And what did you reply?”

“That we hadn’t set one yet.”

“Which is the truth,non?”

“Yes, in a manner of speaking. But everything else,” she windmilled her hands in agitation, “everything else is a damn lie!”

He placed a hand upon her shoulder. “Isn’t that the point? Isn’t that why you’re here?”

She squeezed her eyes shut and sighed. “Must we, Alex? Is there no other—”


Tags: Niomie Roland French Conquests Billionaire Romance