11. Chapter Ten Savannah
Chapter Ten: Savannah
Staring down at our intertwined fingers, my heart does cartwheels.
Laurent just propositioned me, but is there really anything to think about?
I want him. He wants me. Instead of giving him the answer I know he’s after, I squeeze his hand, whispering, “Perhaps.” Then I wiggle my ass just a bit on his lap and shift my attention out the window.
Let him sweat it out a little. Besides, I really do want to meet Merritt and the new Prince of Arcadia.
Linc pulls the Range Rover into a long driveway and up to a beautiful home.
Even though it’s large and expensive like Voss’s mansion, it couldn’t be more different.
Instead of cold marble and a golf course-worthy lawn, it’s much homier and welcoming.
Bright flowerbeds line the walkway and there’s a large front porch with a swing.
All the trees give it a park-like atmosphere.
The lights are on, offering a warm and cozy glow, and the moment we’re parked, the front door swings open and Merritt steps out, a baby in her arms.
As the rest of the crew arrives, I watch Linc power walk up to Merritt.
He kisses her then murmurs something before placing a light kiss on their little boy’s dark head.
My heart bangs against my ribcage at the sweet image.
I’ve always loved children. Once upon a time, I imagined having my own one day.
But I haven’t given much thought to starting a family in a while.
I’d have to find a good man first and, well, Chad left a bad taste in my mouth for relationships of any kind.
The moment we reach the little family, Linc introduces us. He sounds so proud, so ridiculously in love, and I can’t help but smile. What would it be like to find your perfect person like these two have? Like Harper did. I imagine it would be beyond wonderful.
“It’s so nice to finally meet you, Savannah,” Merritt says, welcoming me with a one-armed hug.
“You look amazing! I love your dress.” She’s utterly gorgeous with long brown hair threaded with gold highlights, and an air of poise and grace surrounds her that I wish I possessed.
A refined elegance that comes with being true royalty.
And although she’s dressed for comfort in leggings and an oversized hoodie, and I’m in this stunning gown, I still feel like a pauper.
“It’s really nice to meet you, too,” I respond, lightly sweeping a finger over Tristan’s chubby little hand. “He’s adorable.”
“Thank you. I fear he’s going to grow up and be a heartbreaker. He’s already such a flirt.” As if on cue, he smiles at me, and we all laugh. Turning amused blue eyes on Laurent, Merritt continues, “And if it isn’t the infamous Laurent.”
“Always a pleasure, Princess,” Laurent murmurs, but he doesn’t offer his hand or sound flirtatious. Probably because Linc is watching him through narrowed eyes.
“Last time I saw you, you helped save both our lives. I’ve never been able to thank you properly.” She lays a hand on his sleeve, expression full of sincerity and gratitude. “From the bottom of my heart, thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” he replies, voice gruff. Also appearing a little…embarrassed?
Looking back and forth between Laurent and Linc and Merritt, I wonder what happened. For a man who claims he isn’t a hero, he seems to keep saving people right and left. I’d be the third that I know about. Are there others? I’ll have to remember to find out more later.
“Come on in,” Merritt invites us, breaking through my musings, and everyone enters their home.
And it truly is a home. Warm and welcoming. A soft scent lingers in the air—like sea salt and jasmine—reminding me of a spring day in SoCal.
“I want to hear all about the masquerade party,” Merritt says.
“I want to hear all about the heist.” Hunter McGrath strolls forward. The pilot wears her trademark tanktop, jeans and boots, but her long russet hair hangs loose, free of its usual ponytail. Knox moves straight to her side, sweeping an arm around her waist and planting a kiss on her.
I know the minute she sees me, and I’m not sure what I’m expecting, but it’s not the excitement in her voice when she says, “Savannah! How are you?”
She manages to disentangle herself from Knox, and we hug. “I’m good, thanks. How are you?”
“Wonderful,” she says as Knox tugs her under the crook of his arm. Ever since getting together with him, Hunter has become more relaxed and easygoing. “Your new niece is adorable, by the way.”
“She is, isn’t she?” Harper and Ryland remind me of Barbie and Ken—blue eyes, dirty blond hair, perfect cheekbones…stereotypical all-American couple. It’s really no surprise they made a beautiful baby.
“Did you expect anything less?” Addie asks. “My brother and Savannah’s sister have great genes.”
“Your genes are pretty perfect, too,” Cole says, handing her a glass of wine.
“Thank you, my Detective.” Addie clinks her glass against his.
“I’m betting we could make some beautiful babies,” he adds in a low voice.
“Cole!” She nudges him with her elbow then gives him a saucy grin. “Of course, we could. And one day, maybe we will.”
“My mom keeps hinting about wanting to be a grandma.”
“There’s no hinting about it! She’s been pretty forthright, but one thing at a time.” She waves her diamond and ruby engagement ring at him, slips her hand in his and then turns her attention back to Hunter. “You missed out on a flawless heist.”
“Voss is going to shit himself when he sees that empty case,” Knox predicts.
“The book was never his to begin with,” Laurent reminds us.
“So what’s the hidden clue?” Brighton asks, sipping a glass of champagne. “Let me see the book.”
She turns to Laurent, and he hesitates briefly before reaching into his jacket and removing the book. I can tell he doesn’t really want to hand it over, but he does, anyway. I’m not sure if it has more to do with him not trusting easily, or because the book is way more than just paper to him.
Brighton flips through the pages and frowns. “Nothing seems special about it,” she declares, handing it back.
“It’s special,” he insists. “I just have to figure out how.”
“Good luck with that.” Brighton tips her glass in his direction then turns her attention to baby Tristan.
“What if you can’t figure out the clues?” I ask him.
“I will.” A determined gleam lights his green eyes.
As much as I want to go back to the Ritz-Carlton with Laurent and continue what we started in Voss’s music room, I’m enjoying my time with everyone so much.
I don’t get to socialize often and I’m growing so comfortable with everyone.
Laurent must notice because he doesn’t rush me.
Instead, he turns up the charm and mingles, too.
He never leaves my side for longer than a minute or two, and every time I turn around, he’s there with a touch or a dashing smile that makes my insides turn all melty.
Brighton and Laurent, both French, start talking about how France has the best champagne in the world.
She tells me her favorite drink is a Kir Royale.
When I mention I’ve never had one before, she sidles up to the side bar, searching for the correct ingredients.
Linc pulls down a fancy bottle of Chambord since she’s too short to reach it, and the next thing I know, she’s whipping up Kir Royales garnished with raspberries, and I’m drinking them like Kool-Aid.
As the night wears on, I’ve decided Kir Royales are my favorite drink, too. After a few too many, I’m feeling positively giddy. As effervescent as the bubbles I’m drinking. This departure from my normal reality is something I’ve truly needed.
I’m talking to Hunter and Addie when I notice Laurent is nowhere in sight.
Missing those sharp cheekbones, that debonair smile and his devastating wit, I excuse myself and wander out the rear sliding doors to find him standing on the huge back patio, gazing off into the darkness.
It’s a bit more than a mere patio with all its tropical flowers and plants—more like an exotic garden—and I’m mesmerized by the sensual scents and visuals surrounding me.
Moving up behind him, I drag a hand over his biceps and circle around his tall frame to stand in front of him. “There you are,” I murmur, trailing my fingers around his sleeve, across his firm chest and up to toy with his bowtie. “Looking as dashing as ever, I might add.”
He arches a dark brow. “How many of those have you consumed?” he asks, attention on the empty glass in my hand.
I set it down on a nearby table, tilt my head and pretend to count. “Enough to be feeling really good, but not enough to cloud my judgment.” I send him a crooked smile. “Although when it comes to you, I am a little partial.”
“Partial to what?”
“To your amazing green eyes, sexy dimples, impressive fashion sense…” Yes, dimples.
Plural. At first, I thought he just had the one on his left cheek, but then realized when he’s truly happy and doesn’t hold back, he has a complete set.
Sexy as hell, too. I grip the lapels of his jacket and tow him closer.
My voice drops, turning husky. Seductive.
“The way your mouth moves against mine. How you so effortlessly play the hero and then deny it.”
“I’m no hero.”
“See? Just like that. But I disagree. I think you’re très galant.
” Leaning in, brushing my lips against his ear, I whisper, “I learned that from Brighton.” Leaning back, I smooth my hands down his jacket.
“And no matter what you say, I believe you care about the people in that room more than you want to admit.”
“Hmmm.”
His vague response makes me press further. “Merritt said you saved her and Linc’s lives,” I remind him. “What happened?”
“It was nothing.” He shrugs. “I just happened to be in the right place at the right time. They needed help. I made sure they got it.”
“Sounds like something a hero would do,” I tease, poking him in the chest.
“Okay, so I care about them a little.” He offers me a conciliatory smile.
“A lot,” I counter.