Page 43 of Forbidden French

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“I had no idea you’d be here.”

He tucks his hands into his pockets. “My father and Victor are close. When my father couldn’t make it for the celebration, I cleared my schedule to attend in his place.”

“What a small world we live in. Tiny, it seems. I saw you at the ballet earlier this week.”

His brows hitch with interest. “You were there?”

“Perched high up in a box, hidden away. You wouldn’t have seen me.”

“But you saw me.”

My cheeks flush. “I was standing up to applaud the dancers and I noticed you down in the crowd with your date. The two of you were hard to miss.”

He nods coolly. “Miranda works at GHV. She’s a friend of sorts.”

I tilt my head to the side, wanting more. “A friend who accompanies you to the ballet is a good friend indeed,” I goad.

He fails to take the bait.

“And who were you with?”

I wish I could say someone handsome and dangerous and bad for me in every way.

“My grandmother,” I reply, trying not to feel self-conscious.

“You two are close,” he notes.

“Extremely.”

“Then I look forward to meeting her.”

“You two haven’t met?”

“Not officially, though I do think she’s an acquaintance of my father’s.”

I hum. “I’m sensing a pattern here.”

He nods, understanding. “We can’t escape each other, it seems. It’s getting late. Were you going to head up to dinner soon? I’ll escort you.”

I pivot on my heels, and he comes up beside me. I think he’s going to extend his elbow for me to take, but instead, he presses his hand to the small of my back in the same way he did for his date at the ballet. I wanted to trade places with her then, and it feels heady to be experiencing it now. His firm grip of possession on my back is enough to sear through the dress layer between us. His pinky rests barely an inch above my tailbone, and the placement feels intimate rather than friendly. We continue up the path, and his hand slides slowly around the outside of my hip so he can gather me closer to him. I realize why a moment later when I narrowly miss stepping on a short branch that must have fallen from one of the swaying Cyprus trees.

“Careful,” he says, tightening his hold on me.

There’s a heaviness to his hand. I’ll remember the size of it later when I’m in my room. I’ll place my hand where his is now and marvel at the fact that he could capture nearly half my waist in his palm.

He catches my shiver and asks if I’m cold.

I am. I shouldn’t have come out walking in a slip of a dress, but I refuse his jacket.

“Are you sure?”

I’m too worried about appearances. In fact, I step slightly out of his reach so that he’s forced to drop his hand. We’ll be approaching the villa at any moment. What a shame.

I turn to survey him, trying to soak in as much as I can while I have him so close. His profile is devastating, though it’s always been that way. I used to love to study him back at St. John’s.

“You know, you should have taken the carriages,” I tell him. “I’ve never experienced anything like it. It was like something straight out of a Jane Austen novel. My grandmother was salivating at the historical accuracy.”

He smiles. “Charming though it sounds, it’s been a long day of travel, and I wasn’t eager to extend it. I would have walked straight from the airport in Milan if I’d had better shoes,” he teases.

“I felt the same. It’s why I was out for a walk. I got a little carried away though, and I should have headed back earlier. My grandmother warned me about being on time and now, look, I’ll be the last one to arrive.”

“You’ll be with me. You can use my arrival as a distraction and slip in unnoticed if you’d like.”

“True. I’m good at that,” I murmur.

“Going unnoticed?”

I don’t reply. I didn’t intend for him to hear the remark, and I definitely don’t want to dissect it. He of all people should understand the type of person I am, how good I am at sneaking under the radar, nothing more than a blip to most everyone.

I still for a moment as I hear something in the distance, the sound of someone shouting, I think.

There it is again.

Emmett frowns and turns to me. “Did you hear that?”

“It sounds like they’re calling—”

“LAINEY!”

“LAINEY!” Another voice joins in.

The blood drains from my face. Oh god. The chances of me going unnoticed are exactly zero now. My grandmother has organized a search party on my behalf. How mortifying.

I start to run toward the villa. “I’m here! Enough! There’s no need to keep shouting!”

I don’t miss Emmett’s chuckle as he hurries alongside me.


Tags: R.S. Grey Romance