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"Apparently, not too well if Pascal Fournier knows," Duncan snapped.
Thierry rubbed a hand over his short, curly hair. "Jean-Luc told him when he was trying to rein him in by offering Elsa's hand in marriage."
I shook my head. I'd guessed as much. This Pascal person was probably challenging Papa's authority, so he decided to throw him a line by calling him an heir. Using me to achieve that probably seemed fair to him, regardless of what that would do to me.
"This is going to be such a mess." I put a hand on my stomach, moving away from Duncan to sit at a table because my knees felt weak. "All of this. I was so happy today." I looked at Thierry and gave him a watery smile. "We're having a girl."
Thierry's eyes softened. "Els." He crouched in front of me and took my hands in his.
I heard Duncan mutter something along the lines of, "Son of a bitch needs to stop touching my wife," but he didn't do anything about it.
Thierry kissed both my hands and ignored Duncan's growl. "I'm so happy for you."
Tears filled my eyes. The drama with Papa and the emotional upheaval of finding out about our baby's gender was playing havoc on my hormone-soaked emotions. "Why is Papa like this? Why does he keep trying to drag me into his world? I don't want it. I don't."
"Ah fuck." I heard Duncan when the tears fell, and then the world shifted. My husband picked me up and sat down with me on his lap. "No,ma douce. Don't cry." That just made me sob more. "What the fuck, Thierry, do something."
"She's your wife, asshole.Youdo something."
Thierry's amused voice made me chuckle through my tears.
"Shh, darling. Come on now. It's just a party. We'll dress up, eat good food, you can drink water, and I'll drink champagne." Duncan stroked my back.
I sank into him and realized how comforted I felt. I hadn't felt like this since Mamman passed.
Duncan made me feel safe as well, I thought, just like Thierry.
It made sense that he would. He was my husband, and suddenly, it didn't matter that Papa was aconnard égoïste. Selfish asshole! I had a husband who wanted me, and maybe someday he'd even fall in love with me. For the first time in months, I felt some of my worries slip away.
Chapter 16
Duncan
"Are you out of your fucking mind?" Dominic Delacour thundered as he came into my office.
I sighed. Damn, that wedding announcement from Moreau! I should've known Dom would be all kinds of upset when he heard I'd just acquired the head of the French mob as a father-in-law.
Merdé!
"Hi, Dom. What are you doing in Paris?" I drawled.
Dominic worked for…I actually had no idea who he worked for. I suspected a government agency—but I wasn't sure which country.
"Jean-Luc Moreau is averybad man." He was in all black, as in a suit. VeryMen in Black! I could see tattoos snaking up hisneck,verynot staid government agency. He was half Creole and full grit. He'd helped me out in a tight spot or two, and we were friends of sorts, but I wasn't always sure I liked him. Right now, I definitely did not like him because he had no business making statements about my personal life.
"Tell me something I don't know."
"And you married his daughter without giving me a head's up?"
Dom was not bigger than me. He wasn't stronger than me. But he was wilier than me and had more experience with hand-to-hand combat, so if I fought him, I'd get my ass handed to me. I sparred in a gym, he brawled withreallybad men where there was no gym mat or pesky things like rules. More fight-to-the-death scenarios.
"Giveyoua head's up? Yeah, no! Mind your own fucking business, Dom."
We became unwillingsituational partnerswhen I was chasing a Chagall painting, only to discover it was a fake sold by a Russian arms dealer. The next thing I knew, Dom Delacour was all over me, coercing me to work undercover so he could catch the dealer. Since then, we'd become friends, bonding over uncovering counterfeit art being sold to fund the Russian war machine.
"Duncan," he growled.
I waved a hand at a client's chair. "She's pregnant."
