Page 30 of A Royally Fake French Menage
I stared at the empty fireplace and made my decision. “The land is three quarters the size of La Borde. Stables double. I have no idea what’s still there. Have a quick gander before you walk into town, please. I’m sorry if there’s no car. Ride, if you want. There might be bikes in the garage. Actually, there should be cars, unless someone filched them all. My father has—or had—a collection of Aston Martins. See what happened to those?” Desperation clung to me that fast became an anxiety attack.
I didn't give a shit about the money. My father fucking loved those cars. Almost as much as he loved my mother. I’d be devastated if they’d be stolen or sold out from under us, even after his death.
Genie wrapped her arms around my waist, snuggling deeper. I wrapped my arms around her in return, but when she looked up, it wasn’t at me. Her plea went out to the man who stood before us.
“I’ll see it’s done, my lord.” Jacques feathered a reassuring kiss behind my ear as he passed us, taking the scant information in his stride.
No doubt he’d look around before he took off for the village. I trusted him. I had to. Trust required giving and he had given me so much. My stomach revolted on my, and I grasped about and found?—
Genie.
“Will you show me upstairs?” she murmured, waving a hand toward a banister and circular staircase that led upward.
I missed the tip of her nose. “I think I love you,” I whispered as her eyes widened.
And I meant it.
Watching Genie flit from room to room in full discovery mode in the eastern wing was a singular joy I couldn't have foreseen. I’d managed to tow my armor in its case up the stairs with me. It marked the carpet somewhat, but it was finally where it belonged—in its proper home.
And now that I no longer had to follow the demands of my cold roast leftovers of a family dinner, I had the opportunity to take pure pleasure in just watching her and that was possibly the best part of my day.
“What time is this thing with your mother tonight?” I ran my fingers across the top of a white sheeted piece of furniture. I thought this was a sitting room, but I wasn't entirely sure. It had been years since I came into this wing. “And do you have clothes?”
“Clothes, yes. It starts at ten, so I can arrive at eleven and probably pull off a red carpet worthy entrance. Midnight would upset her beautifully. Can I borrow a car?” She looked over her shoulder at me and managed to toss her hair all in one flick.
“Are you drinking? Because I’ll get us a driver.” My lips twitched at the memory of the last time I had her in a car.
Or when I didn't have her, more to the point.
Genie frowned. “I know we just did non-battle with your family, Barclay, but really, I don't want you to have to deal with mine.Causticis a sweet term if you want to look at it that way. She’ll shred you and… I don't want you to be hurt.” Her frown deepened.
I instantly hated the way her eyes saddened. Pushing away from my post at the doorway where I'd settled after attempting to catalogue the room in my memories and failing obnoxiously short of the required mark, I crossed the parquet floor and stood before her.
“Genie, you’ve battled my ex-lover, put up with my stepmonster and flown a quarter of the way around the world just to be my fake date.” I tucked a wayward strand of blonde hair behind her ear.
“Yournotso fake date,” she corrected me. Her smile left me less anxious than I’d been a moment before, but still the fact that I’d be leaving her with a foe of her own tonight bothered me.
“Alright then, a not fake date,” I conceded, dropping a sweet kiss against her lips and pulled away before she could object. “This morning I suffered pain just to watch you dance over my cock. And I’d do it again because that image of you is burned into my mind,mon petit chou.She bit her lip when I held up my hand to forestall her further objections. “Either way, I don’t want you heading out alone. One of us should be with you at all times.”
Genie stamped her foot. “You’re not my keeper, Barclay,’ she said, a dangerous glitter in her kitten eyes.
I leaned forward. “And you're far too tempting. Someone will snatch you away from me and I’ll raze this city to the fucking ground just to claim you back.
Thatlittle declaration against her independence stifled her remaining breath.
I stood back satisfied, until a cold pressure against the back of my head stilled me in a different way. A secondary sound, a mutedsnicktold me I hadn't misread the situation.
Or rather, I had, and the danger I spoke of wasn't out there at all.
It was in here with the two of us.
“I’d listen to him, if I were you. In these large cities, you never know who is about and might take a liking to a, what was the term you used? Somethingtemptinglike you?” Beau Bennett shifted into the room.
I ground my teeth hard enough for the sound to be audible. “What the fuck are you doing in my house?”
I could almost hear his eyebrows soar for the floral motif decorated ceiling. This one had fleur de lys incorporated into the design to show the marriage to the French side of the family at some point several hundred years back.
“I’ve been trying very hard to find you, Barclay. First France, now here. You do get around, don’t you? Or rather, your armor does.” He clucked his tongue at me and the pressure at the base of my skull eased as Beau tucked the gun away.
