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“We only have one huge TV screen in the house, and we always fight when we have shows to watch and the time overlaps.”
I store her luggage in the trunk before helping her into the vehicle. “Hi, Damien.”
“Hello, Miss Jasmine.”
“Please, call me Jasmine.,” she says, and Damien grunts before starting the car.
One hour later, our private jet leaves New York on an eight-hour flight to France. Jasmine is seated in front of me, looking beautiful as always. Damien is sitting in the opposite row, a dark sunshade over his eyes.
“Are you excited?” I ask Jasmine.
She smiles sweetly. “I’m more nervous than excited.”
“Why are you nervous?”
She looks out the window for a few seconds before shrugging. “Meeting your parents. I have a feeling that they won’t like me.”
“It doesn’t matter if they don’t—”
“It matters to me,” she insists. “I want them to like me. Especially your mom.”
Damien coughs beside us, and I slide him a pointed glare, but he’s not even looking my way. He doesn’t say anything, but his cough holds a thousand words. Jasmine’s relationship with my parents can only be built one day at a time.
I want them to like me—especially your mom.
If I can vouch for any of my parents to remain professional and polite throughout the meeting, it’s my dad. My Mom, on the other hand? I can only hope for the best. One thing I’m sure of, though, is that I would never let her talk down on Jasmine while I’m there.
The last time I left France, my mother hit me, and although we’ve had lots of rows and disagreements over the years, she had never laid her hands on me. She has offended me so many times before, and I haven’t started forgiving her because she never apologizes. I love my mom, but I wonder how my dad puts up with her.
“We can go sightseeing, though, right?”
“Of course.” I nod, smiling. “Meeting my parents won’t take long. We will spend the rest of our time there sightseeing.”
“Can we go to the Eiffel Tower?” Jasmine asks, vibrating excitedly. “I’ve heard and read so much about it.”
I roll my eyes. “Everyone who isn’t born in France always speaks highly of the Eiffel Tower, but trust me, that’s not even up to the top ten percent of things you can do in France.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. The tower has an incredible view, especially of the City of Lights, but there are a hundred more spectacular things.”
“Fine, Mr. Ace.” Jasmine crosses her arms over her chest. “Since you’re my escort, I believe I’m in great hands.”
“I’ll do more than show you around,” I tease, then clasp my mouth shut when I realize we have company. I’m sure Damien heard me, but his expression remains impassive.
“Let’s go inside.” I stand from my seat and reach for Jasmine’s hand. “It’s an eight-hour flight, so you should try to get as much rest as possible.”
As soon as we’re inside the sleeping quarters, I hold Jasmine’s face and kiss her lips. I groan, suddenly feeling life seep back into me. It’s been a while since we kissed. I miss her so much. Jasmine melts into my arms, and for a while, we remain like this, basking in each other’s presence.
If anyone had told me I’d be here today with Jasmine —Alec’s sister— I would never have believed them. I knew she had the potential to unravel me, and so I avoided her like a plague. However, that night we gave in to our desires, changed everything, and I’ll never forget it. My only regret is not being with her sooner.
We move our embrace onto the bed, and I lie with her tucked in my arms while thinking about what the next few hours have in store for us.
Chapter seventeen
Jasmine
“Jas?”
