Page 33 of Declan

I glare at her, truly offended. “I never lie, least of all to you.”

She sighs and shakes her head as she looks up at the sky for a moment, then turns her gaze back to me. I can tell she doesn’t believe me, and I’m sure there isn’t anything I can say at this moment to persuade her. So, I just say, “You’ll see. You’ll see.”

“I suppose I will,” she replies, then pauses as she looks around and adds, “Where are we anyway?”

I smile and follow her gaze to the beach on the other side of our patio. “This is the Brando, an exclusive resort in French Polynesia. It would appear Antoinette has good taste in honeymoon spots.”

She nods and stares out at the ocean for a few more moments. Then, she turns back to me and says, “Now, feed me. I’m starving.”

I rise from my seat and take her hand, leading her down the walkway to the path that leads to the restaurants and shops. “Are you looking for full dinner options or something on the lighter side?”

“How about we start with cocktails and appetizers?”

I nod, leading her through the shopping area to the bar that’s on the edge of the beach. “Do you want to look for a table or sit at the bar?”

Her brow furrows as she considers my question, and it takes her so long to answer that I ask, “Is this a difficult question for a reason?”

She laughs and replies, “I always want to sit at the bar, but I’ve never really had the opportunity because, you know.”

“Oh, I definitely know. But you won’t have any of that here, Issa. So, if you want to sit at the bar, we’re going to sit at the bar.”

Her smile is blinding, her happiness palpable over something so simple. Most people would avoid sitting at the bar, but for her, it’s one of the small things the girl who has everything has never been able to do.

She walks by me, leading the way as she says gleefully, “I’m just gonna go belly up to the bar.”

She doesn’t wait for me to answer. She struts her way across the open area, turns to a patron already seated, and asks, “Are these seats taken?”

The woman looks over at her, smiles congenially, and then replies, “No, my dear. They’re open.”

She beams a huge smile and pulls the chair out. “Thank you!”

I chuckle softly, even more charmed by her innate pleasure over something so simple. I watch her as she converses with the bartender, pointing at random things on the menu, occasionally deferring to me for an opinion, but it’s her show. I’m just here for the ride.

Eventually, she gets the order finalized and then turns to face me, giving my chair a yank so her legs are between mine, her feet resting on the rung at the bottom of my stool. It’s a seemingly innocent move that screams intimacy to me, and I smile rather smugly, impressed that she’s thawed this much already.

“Tell me about Darius.”

Her random question pulls me out of my reverie, and I frown at the sound of my brother’s name coming from her lips. I barely manage to keep the sulk out of my voice when I ask, “What do you want to know?”

She shrugs, taking a sip of the drink the bartender set in front of her, a cocktail served in a whole coconut shell, her shoulders doing a little dance as she happily murmurs, “Oh, anything, really. Until a few days ago, I had no idea you had a brother, and there’s no mention of him anywhere that I’ve found.”

“You been researching me, doll face?”

She gives me a bland look, then replies, “Of course. I’d do a full background check, but it seems the ship has sailed on avoiding you.”

I grab the seat of her chair and yank her closer, my arm resting on the back of it as I smile. “That’s right. It has well and truly sailed, darlin’.”

“Come on, Declan,” she replies exasperatedly. “Quit stalling and spill.”

I sigh, unsure how to best explain my brother, given his predilection toward the morally grey. Not that I have any right whatsoever to judge my brother’s borderline criminal lifestyle, but that doesn’t mean other people won’t attempt to throw him under the bus.

“Darius is a complicated guy,” I reply. “We were estranged for a good number of years because we took very different paths in life, but we recently decided those paths are inconsequential.”

“What does he do?”

I pause, grimacing as I try to come up with the appropriate words to describe what my brother does for work. Finally, I say, “He’s in international export and trade.”

She rolls her eyes and makes a face. “So, he’s into illegal stuff. Got it.”

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