So, quite simply, she needed to get past her attraction and focus on being friends with Malik. And that probably meant that she shouldn’t be choosing clothes with him in mind. No to the blue dress, she decided firmly. She’d pick one of the ones she hadn’t worn yet.
A soft knock on the open door had her looking up. Ben stood there, the look on his face far too aware. Oh, hell.
“Okay?”
She stood. “Of course. I was just trying to decide which dress to bring to Paris.”
“Bring more than one,” Ben said, going along with her. “Aside from the Morels’, Léo said his sister-in-law is making noises about throwing a party before she gets too pregnant to enjoy it. And bring some of the semiformal outfits, too, for dinner and stuff.”
Dani raised her brows. “Stuff? You’re so eloquent.”
Ben flopped down on the bed and waved a hand. “You know what I mean. Maybe we’ll go to the theater or something.”
She laughed, and he made a face.
“I know. Who would ever have thought I’d be saying that so casually?”
“You’ve always liked theater,” she argued, but she knew what he meant. Cut-price last-minute seats were different from glittering opening night affairs.
“Anyway,” he changed the subject, “Léo’s just gone out, and I wanted to talk to you.”
Uh-oh. So much for thinking she’d distracted him.
“What about?” Act casual.
His level stare was a clear indicator that he saw right through her. She hadn’t told him about the kiss, not really, but when she’d gone to see what he wanted that day, she’d been flushed and flustered, and it had taken him only seconds to guess, even if she hadn’t confirmed his guess. Since then, he’d had his eagle eye on her.
“It’s fine, Ben.” He knew her so well; she shouldn’t be surprised that he’d seen what she was feeling before she was even willing to admit it to herself.
“Are you sure?” He reached out an arm, and she crawled onto the bed and snuggled next to him.
“Yeah. It’s not…. I mean, he’s hot, yeah? And he’s great. But I’m not in love or anything. It’s just attraction, and I can ignore that.”
Ben was silent for a second, then he sighed. “I should have considered this.” His tone was so filled with blame that she laughed and poked him in the side.
“Don’t be an idiot. Not everything is about you, you know. In a week, I’ll have forgotten all about this and he’ll just be my friend.” She rolled off the bed and to her feet. “Come on, I’m hungry. Let’s get a snack.”
Paris was everything Dani had expected and more. She was surprised by how walkable a city it was—and if she got tired, she could just hop on the Métro. She and Ben had ditched Léo and Malik the first day and gone exploring in typical tourist fashion—well, almost. The tourist crowds were pretty intense even so early in the season, and so Ben had leveraged Léo’s influence to get VIP access to the Eiffel Tower. Dani had felt bad about it at first, wanting an “authentic” tourist experience, but when they arrived and she saw how long the lines were, she decided “authentic” was really a matter of perspective. Nothing about this trip was in typical Aussie tourist style, after all, and if she really liked it, she could come back and stand in line another time.
Maybe.
She felt a little less bad about it when they arrived and realized there had been several VIP visits that day, so one of the elevators had been allocated for that purpose, not just for them. They made a brief stop on the second floor, then changed elevators and zoomed up to the third, at the top of the tower. It was such a clear day that Dani felt she could see forever.
“Wow,” she said honestly, staring out toward the horizon. “You know, I always thought going up the Eiffel Tower was kind of gimmicky, but this is actually pretty cool.”
“I know, right?” Ben slung an arm around her as they wandered slowly around the viewing deck. “While you’re here, we should go to Le Jules Verne.”
Dani paused to look out over what she was pretty sure was the Bois de Boulogne, if she remembered the map right. “Le Jules Verne? That’s the restaurant here in the tower, isn’t it? Where Léo brought you for your birthday last year?”
“Yep.” He made a face. “Léo doesn’t really like it, so I’ll have to talk him into it. Or we can just make it the two of us. The view while you’re eating… wow.”
“That sounds awesome.” They walked around for a while longer, taking in the view. Dani could hardly believe that she was actually there, in Paris, on the observation deck of the Eiffel Tower. She reached out and touched one of the metal struts, just to make sure it was really there. Ben saw and laughed.
“Come on,” he said. “We’ll walk down. That will really cement in your brain that it’s real.”
There were six hundred and something steps down to the ground, and Ben was right—being right in amongst the “guts” of the tower leg was something she’d never forget. Back on the ground, Ben grabbed her hand and dragged her around a corner to… a carousel.
Dani laughed so hard she thought she’d cry while he bought them tickets.
“I can’t believe you remembered,” she finally gasped as they waited their turn.
He hitched up an eyebrow, smirking smugly. “That you want to ride a carousel in every city you possibly can? Of course I remember. We’d have already started if there was one in Monaco.”
Impulsively, she threw her arms around him. “Paris is the perfect place to start.”
Stealing a moment to catch her breath, Dani slipped out through a pair of french doors onto a terrace and idly wondered how much wealth one needed to be able to have this much outdoor space in the heart of Paris.
Lucien’s parents had a gorgeous home, and they’d treated her like a long-lost daughter. Truthfully, she wasn’t sure why. Ben said it was because she’d stepped up to help Lucien and Simon last year, but she hadn’t really done much—started an online petition, that’s all, and shared it on social media. Sometimes it was the thought that counted, she supposed.
Still, there were worse things than to have a roomful of beautifully dressed people sipping high-end alcohol and eating delicious canapes treat her like a hero. She was dressed to the nines, and even though her feet were killing her in her amazing but impractical shoes, she was having a great time.
“Hiding?”
She started, not needing to turn to know who that deliciously deep voice belonged to. Damn it! She wasn’t getting over this crush fast enough, and now they were alone together on a moonlit terrace of a Paris mansion. It was goddamn fairy-tale material. How was she supposed to not fall for him under these circumstances?
“Not really,” she said finally, shooting him a smile over her shoulder and then returning her attention to the garden as though it was the most fascinating thing she’d ever seen. “Just wanted some air. You?”
He came to stand beside her, and she focused on not looking at him with her peripheral vision. “I saw you come out and wanted to ensure you were not overwhelmed.”
This time she turned to look at him properly. “Overwhelmed?” The incredulity in her voice spoke volumes. Her, overwhelmed at a party? Sure, he didn’t know her well, but did he know her at all?
He laughed. Hard. In fact, were those tears streaming down his face? “Forgive me,” he gasped, swiping at his eyes. “I could not resist.” He grinned at her. “You should have seen your face. The very thought of being overwhelmed was anathema to you.”
She couldn’t help it: she laughed too. “It really is,” she agreed. “It’s probably not healthy, but I’ve spent so long being capable and competent that I can’t stand the idea of anything else.” She smiled up at him. At five seven, she wasn’t exactly short, and the four-inch stiletto heels she was wearing added to that, but he was still taller. Was it wrong that she found that incredibly sexy? And he looked divine in his formal evening clothes. Something fluttered in her stomach.
Damn, damn, damn.
&nbs
p; “You don’t look capable and competent tonight,” he said, his voice dropping an octave.
Oh. My. God. Was he flirting with her?
“You look… sensational.” He leaned in close enough that she could feel the warmth from his body.
He is. He’s flirting with me. How seriously should she take this? Was it casual flirting between friends, or was there intent? And how was she supposed to work it out when her skin was flushing hot and every nerve ending in her body was tingling?
“Thank you,” she said, and yay for her, there was no shakiness or breathiness in her voice at all. But she had no idea what to say next. “You look pretty sensational yourself.”
Shoot me. It was like she’d never flirted before. Why was it that when you actually liked someone, all skill at flirting disappeared?
He grinned again, and regret rushed through her. Just friendly, then. “Come back inside,” he said, slinging an arm around her shoulders in much the same way Ben would. Definitely just friends. “They’re going to serve dessert soon, and Lucien’s mother favors the most incredible patisserie. I’ve been waiting for this all night.”
Swallowing her disappointment and chiding herself for feeling it in the first place, she smiled. Dessert was something she could get behind. “Find me another glass of champagne, and I’m in.”
“Consider it done.”
Chapter Six
Malik assured himself that things were better this way. If Dani had flirted back with him, he would have taken it further, and that would have been foolish. Getting sexually involved with a friend was complicated, and often a bad idea. And they were friends now.
But it would be so good.
Maybe, but was he willing to risk causing awkwardness later? He and Dani didn’t know each other very well yet, but he and Léo were closer than brothers—certainly closer than he was to his actual brothers—and Ben was a permanent part of Léo’s life, which meant Dani would be in their lives forever too. Even though she lived in Australia, the number of Skype calls he’d been included on in the past was an indication that he’d be seeing a lot of her in the future.
But… you saw her in that dress….
Fixing his smile in place, Malik shifted in an attempt to adjust himself without actually having to adjust himself in a room full of people—including his aunt and uncle, who were bearing down on them. Now was not the time to think about how delectable Dani looked in that dress.
But did it have to be scarlet? He had a weakness for a beautiful woman in a red dress.
“Malik!” His aunt swooped in and presented her cheek. Dutifully, he kissed it and then shook his uncle’s hand.
“Aunt Miryam, Uncle Charles. Are you enjoying the evening?”
Dani stepped forward to perform her own greetings. Léo and Ben had introduced her earlier in the week when they went for their duty dinner. Malik had begged off; it wasn’t that he didn’t love his aunt and uncle—they had, after all, practically raised him—but his aunt and mother had been conspiring for some time now to get him married and settled, and he wanted to avoid the battle of words and wits that entailed. Especially since his father had been calling lately and he’d been dodging the calls.
“Vivienne and Édouard always throw such lovely parties,” Aunt Miryam said dismissively, as though she expected nothing less. “Have you been here all evening, Malik? We haven’t seen you.”
Possibly because I’ve been ducking out of sight every time you come into view. “I’ve been circulating,” he prevaricated. “We have probably been missing each other by moments.”
“Most likely,” Charles agreed, with a particular gleam in his eye that told Malik he wasn’t buying it for even an instant. “There are so many people here. How are you enjoying Paris, Danika?”
Malik was standing close enough to Dani to feel her almost imperceptible flinch at the use of her full name, but she smiled and answered warmly.
“It’s wonderful. I wish I’d let Ben talk me into coming sooner, and I’m so looking forward to seeing more.”
For a few minutes, they spoke politely about the sights Dani had seen and the places she should try to see while she was in Europe. Malik was beginning to think he might be able to get away without any personal conversation; Aunt Miryam was a stickler for formal, old-fashioned social etiquette and wouldn’t spend more than ten minutes at a time with any person or group of people at a party. But just as they reached what he estimated was the eight-minute mark, the Europe chatter wound down and Aunt Miryam turned to him.
“I spoke with your mother yesterday,” she said. “Have you heard from her lately?” The question sounded innocent enough to any observer, Dani included, but it was actually pointed. He made a duty call to his mother at least once a fortnight and spent that time dodging questions and lectures about his life. It used to be every Monday morning, but his father had started hijacking the conversations, and so now the calls were less frequent and he tried to make the time and day random.
“Last week,” he said casually, as though the call hadn’t ended with his father grabbing the phone, a shouting match, and then Malik stomping around his apartment slamming doors. “She sounded well then. Excited about the wedding.” His youngest sister, who at nineteen was barely old enough to think for herself if you asked him, was getting married soon. He was still trying to come up with an excuse not to go to the wedding, although there was no way he could do that without breaking his sister’s heart.
“She is,” Miryam agreed. “She said your father has been trying to call, but he doesn’t seem able to catch you.”
And there it was. She wasn’t pulling any punches, meeting his gaze squarely. His mother and Aunt Miryam were twins, and although he’d often gotten the feeling that she didn’t like his father, his aunt was always on his mother’s side. No matter what. And since his mother was almost always on his father’s side—the only exception Malik could think of was when she decided to send him to France for his schooling—that meant Aunt Miryam would nag him about taking his father’s calls.
“I noticed I’d missed him a few times, but never at a convenient time to call back.” He smiled. It was his social smile, not a real one, and he knew his aunt had noticed when she drew back slightly.
Rescue came from a totally unexpected direction.
“I’m sure you’ll find time sooner or later,” Uncle Charles said dismissively. “If it were urgent, he would have tried to reach us. My dear, we should speak with Guy and Lauren.” He gave Miryam no time to protest, turning to Dani and telling her how nice it was to see her again and that she should be sure to call on them again before returning to Australia. Aunt Miryam was left with no option but to reiterate his invitation, and then he swept her away.
Malik forced himself not to sag in relief.
“Wow,” Dani said. “That was intense. Do you want to sneak back outside for a bit?”
Should he be charmed or feel awkward and embarrassed that a woman he was halfway to infatuated with had just witnessed him squirming because his aunt told him to call his father?
Dani met his gaze solidly, no pity visible, no curiosity or salacious interest.
“No, but thank you. I apologize if we made you uncomfortable with our family drama.”
She laughed. “It would take more than a few casual words spoken politely to make me uncomfortable,” she told him, sliding her arm through his and tugging him toward a window as though she’d done it a thousand times before. “Remind me sometime to tell you about the first time my brother ever brought a girlfriend to a family Christmas, and two of my cousins had a screaming fight at the lunch table and stormed out. A lot of dirty laundry got aired that day.” With her free hand, she scooped a champagne glass from the tray of a passing waiter, handed it to him, and then liberated another for herself. By the time they reached the window niche, he was chuckling along with her story, sipping from his glass, and generally enjoying the sensation of her beside him. Too bad he was wearing a tuxedo—her hand on his arm would be
so much better skin-to-skin.
“Thank you,” he murmured when she paused. “It’s very kind of you to look after me.”
She winced. “I hope you don’t think I’m being… I don’t know, patronizing or anything.”
“Not at all,” he assured. “I think you know me better than I thought you did.”
Glancing away, Dani murmured, “Yeah, I figured you wouldn’t want anyone seeing you… not being you.”
Ah. Malik lifted his glass and sipped, buying himself a second. She was far more intuitive than he’d given her credit for, something that was reinforced when he lowered his glass and saw the knowing smirk on her lips. He couldn’t quite bite back his grin.
“Very good,” he acknowledged. “Aunt Miryam is likely the only person who could do that to me in a public setting, and usually only when the topic is my father.” He decided to go for broke; if she was going to be around for a while, she would likely overhear quite a bit about his family situation. “Has Ben told you about my father?”
She shrugged. “Only that you and he don’t get along that well.”
That was an understatement and surprised him a little. “I thought you and Ben told each other everything.”
Her shrug this time was a little rueful, acknowledging that she knew she and Ben shared more than most people thought was normal. “Not other people’s secrets.”
From the corner of his eye, he saw the waitstaff begin circulating with the dessert trays, and he took Dani’s arm and pulled her a little further back into the room. “They’re bringing around the pastries and I don’t want them to miss us,” he explained when she raised a brow inquiringly. Instantly, she looked around.
Between the Covers Page 6
