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"I didn't kill anyone," Thierry remarked.
"I know. Angelique's client confirmed," I looked at Dean, "Angelique, my friend is an escort, and one of her clients is a policeman. He checked it out and told me." I turned back to Thierry. "And even if you killed someone, I wouldn't care. I'm certain you probably had a good reason."
Thierry glared at Dean. "You need to stay the fuck away from Els. Got it, man?"
"No. She's my sister-in-law. I'm not staying the fuck away. Actually, can I drive with you?"
Both Thierry and I gaped at Dean.
"You have some big brass ones," Thierry commented, and I could see his reluctant appreciation.
"They're also hairy," Dean deadpanned. "Duncan said you're an awesome cook."
"And now you want me to cook dinner for you?" I demanded in disbelief.Yeah, this man did have big brass hairy balls.
He gave me a cheeky smile. "Or we could go out for dinner. I know some really good places in the Marais."
"You're going to teachmeaboutmyneighborhood?" I cocked an eyebrow at him, liking him despite myself. He had the same arrogance that Duncan had, but there was something boyish about Dean. He was more approachable and less serious.
He raised both hands, palms out.
Someone honked at us for blocking part of the road, and I sighed, "Fine, you can enjoy Paris traffic with us."
Chapter 10
Duncan
"She whipped up a salad and grilled perfect steaks. Served it with an excellent Bordeaux even thoughshewasn't drinking," Dean told me how he'd finagled dinner from and a conversation with Elsa.
I finally told our parents aboutmy wife, and as I predicted, they were ecstatic. Unfortunately, they were also coming to Paris as soon as possible. Since they were both busy people, that gave me a week or so of reprieve.
I sat with my head in my hands. "Is she pissed with me?"
"She moved out after a week of being married to you, so, yeah, she's pissed with you."
We were having a drink at Bisou, a charming little café close to Elsa's boulangerie andboulangeriein the Marais.
It was a lovely spring evening, the kind that made Paris feel like the center of the universe. The warm air was filled with the sweet fragrance of blooming flowers, and the distant hum of the city blended with the soft chatter of passersby. We sat outside under a canopy of twinkling fairy lights, their glow casting a touch of magic over the already enchanting scene.
I had a glass of pastis, its aniseed flavor lingering on my tongue, while Dean sipped on a kir royale, its sparkling bubbles catching the light.
"Look, brother," Dean continued, leaning forward. "You should talk to her. You're married, having a baby, and—."
"I never wanted to be married," I cut him off, rubbing my temples. "I don't know what the fuck it means. And she's…sogoddamn sweet. How on earth is Moreau her father?"
"How on earth areyouTate Archer's son?" Dean commented.
True. Dad was more like Dean than Damian and me. He was suave and sophisticated; and hid his assholery. He wasn't a thug.I was.
"Point taken. But what if she doesn't want to hear me out? What if it's too late?"
"Do you really think it's too late?" Dean asked, raising an eyebrow. "She's angry, sure, and with good fucking reason because what you did was not cool.Butshe seems like someone who cares about people."
"I thought you were worried she was in cahoots with her father to rip me off, and that baby might not even be mine."
Dean shrugged. "I spent the evening with her and Thierry. I have to say, she's pretty special. She reminds me of Emilia."
"So, she's going to be a pain in my ass as well?" I clipped.
