Page 51 of Entwined

“Yes!” She nods curtly, lifting her gown as she stomps through the wet grass. We exit the back of the chateau, rounding to the carport in front.

“I’d say I told you so—” I break off at the murder in her eyes.

“Don’t. Not one word.” She holds up a finger, warding me off.

I lift my palms in front of me, “Okay. Okay. But we do have one more ball to attend before we leave Paris. Maybe you’ll find a real prince then.”

“The Cotillion?” She sighs, falling back into the plush leather seat of my hired Bentley, as the chauffeur opens her door.

“Yes. I don’t want to go either. But we must. The contacts we’ll make there will be good for the foundation.”

“Fine. But I’ll admit you were right. I was being fanciful, earlier… wishing for things that will never happen to me. I won’t get carried away at the next ball.”

“Good. I need you focused. You’re doing a hell of a job for me.”

Her phone pings like it’s short-circuiting.

“Holy hell!” She presses her hands to her face.

“What is it?” I take her phone. Pictures of her with both me and Dimitri fill the screen. The tabloids have their fill of photos. One even got a blurry one of her and the infamous kiss with him. Then there’s a picture of us by the garden when she stumbled, and I went to steady her. But it was snapped in a way that looks as if I’m about to haul her into my arms for a kiss.

“It could be worse. Fix it. That’s what PR guru’s do.” I smirk, raising an eyebrow.

“Ugh. Sometimes I hate you!”

“Dimitri was right. You are so much like her.”

“Jessie?”

“Yes,” I reply, looking out into the city lights of Paris, wishing I was here with her tonight.

“I’d like to meet her.”

“Maybe you will…someday.”

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