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Couple after couple walked up to her and greeted her with deference, and each time Madeline made sure to introduce Jacyn as her future daughter-in-law. She was immediately smothered with warm welcomes, kisses on the hand from the men, and pecks on the cheek from the women, with cries of, “Finally! Alex is home! And he brought such a beauty with him!”

She was beginning to enjoy the flattery, especially bolstered as it was by Madeline’s gushing over her choice of gown. It was a full-length, drop-shouldered affair, in a pearly white that made her think of Brute’s pale gray coat. Her matching gloves came up past the elbow, and were enhanced only by her engagement ring, which she had placed over the glove at Madeline’s urging.

A Senegalese esthetician who specialized in afro-type natural hair and skin had arrived early in the afternoon to help her with her updo, which was now adorned with an array of pearl-tipped pins. The woman had gone on to do makeup that was far more dramatic than anything Jacyn would normally have chosen for herself—and she was loving it. She felt sleek, glamorous, and daring. As daring as the slit at the front of her gown, which climbed well past her upper thigh, showing a dark flash of leg, which was now toned and firm from daily riding.

She looked and felt amazing. If only Alex was around to see her.

He’d gone on ahead, claiming to have partial responsibility for the gala, since it was a charity event for migrant children that he and Sofia had been passionate about before he left France. From time to time, she would see him, looking splendid in his tuxedo, working the room, talking to guests who looked like big donors. Most of the time, Sofia was at his side, regally attired in—you guessed it—scarlet. Her ebony hair was piled atop her head. She glittered with diamonds from her hair to her shoes. From time to time she touched Alex on the arm and said something witty—or so it seemed, because Alex would always laugh and joke back.

Not your problem,Jacyn would remind herself.This has nothing to do with you.But she had to admit that seeing him so comfortably ensconced within Sofia’s little clique rankled.

“Bored yet?”

She spun around to see William at her side. The bowtie to his tux was already untied, an unusually I-don’t-give-a-damn gesture for the stoic man who had quickly become her friend.

“You kidding?” she answered. “This is amazing! All these fancy, important people!” She’d never been to an event like this in her life. Never expected —

“Tell you a secret,” Liam stage whispered, bringing his mouth close to her ear to share it with her. “Every one of these rich, fancy old farts puts theirculotteson one leg at a time, just like you and me. So never let them intimidate you, especially not just because they have money.”

She laughed, feeling a lot of her tension melt away. He’d said the right thing to put her at ease.

Madeline spoke up. “Where’s Willa?”

“In the kitchens. Helping the sous-chef flambé the cherries.”

“More like eating them,” Madeline said dryly. Then she had an idea. “Since Alex is so busy, why don’t you take Jacyn onto the dance floor? You can’t have the poor thing just standing here all night!”

Jacyn protested, “Oh, but I—”

Too late. Liam already had her by the hand and was sweeping her onto the marble floor. “I hope you can dance, little American. And I don’t mean the boogie-woogie.”

She scoffed. “‘A’ nobody has used the term ‘boogie-woogie’ since the 70s, and ‘B’ my mother was a dance teacher, thank you. I grew up in a studio.”

“Oh, really? Let’s see what you’ve got.”

“Bring it,” she joked back. They began to dance, partly striving for harmony, and partly trying to outdo each other. Pretty soon the other dancers became aware of the tornado in their midst and began to make room for them.

One dance, and then two, and Jacyn discovered that she truly enjoyed dancing with William. It had been a long time since she’d had this kind of fun.

Then the tempo changed. One of John Legend’s most recent masterpieces came on, and instead of showing off and challenging her partner, Jacyn slowed, allowing William to pull her into a smooth, swaying rhythm. The lyrics were stirring, as they always were, touching her heart while the music guided her feet.

She realized he was staring. “Liam?” she questioned.

He looked sheepish. “Oh, sorry.”

She insisted. “That look on your face. I’ve never seen it before.”

Still, he tried to act as if it was nothing. “You just remind me of someone, that’s all.”

“A woman?” she ventured.

His lips curved. “A girl I knew a long time ago. When life was simpler.”

She was about to probe, ask more questions, when she felt a hand on her arm, a firm grasp that brooked no resistance. She jumped in surprise and spun out of Liam’s arms. “Alex!”

There was a low exchange in French, which Jacyn took to be the equivalent ofMay I cut in?Liam stepped back, a flush creeping up his neck, and bowed stiffly to her. Then he was gone.

“Why’d you do that?” she demanded.


Tags: Niomie Roland French Conquests Billionaire Romance