Page 199 of Boss of the Year

“Marie?Tout va bien? Everything okay?”

We both turned to where Jacques had come back inside, guitar case in hand. His typically kind smile had been replaced by concern as he glanced between Lucas and me.

I winced on my sore toes. “Everything’s fine, thanks. I appreciate all the hard work tonight. It wouldn’t have been the same without you and the band.”

“It was fun. A triumph, I thought.” Jacques nodded with a bashful grin but switched to French with another quick look at Lucas, who was frowning at him with his typical foreboding stare. “And with him? He was waiting a long time for you, no?”

I shrugged. “He was, but it’s fine. He’s from…a different life.”

“Is he the father?” Jacques’s gaze flickered down to my stomach so quickly only I could have seen it, though Lucas was watching him, hawk-eyed.

I opened my mouth to say no, but found I couldn’t lie. So, I shrugged. Jacques nodded, as if that made perfect sense, then switched back to English.

“Dinner next week?” he asked. “Or will I see you at the café?”

Lucas’s stare turned glacial.

“I—I’ll see you at the café,” I replied, wanting this conversation to be over. What was Jacques doing?

My friend smirked, then slipped a hand around my waist to give me a farewell kiss on each cheek. It was a normal gestureeveryone in France did—but with Lucas as an audience, it felt much more intimate than normal.

“That will give him something to work on, huh?” he murmured in French before letting go.

I rolled my eyes. “Oui, merci.”

Jacques chuckled as he turned for the door. “Until tomorrow,ma jolie.”

I waved, and Lucas watched Jacques bound off the patio well after the door had latched behind him. “What does ‘ma jolie’ mean?”

“It means ‘my pretty girl.’”

Was it horrible that I enjoyed the way a muscle at the side of his jaw started ticking furiously?

“I see I’m going to have to learn French.”

“I don’t know why.”

He turned, and those storm clouds surged. “Don’t you?”

We stared at each other long enough that the ice that had just formed between us eventually thawed again. I sank back down into my chair, and this time, Lucas did take my feet and put them in his lap.

“Lucas, you don’t have to—oh, my God.” A long, low moan escaped my mouth as his thumbs pressed into my arches. “Oh,Christ,don’t stop doing that.”

A low chuckle emanated from his chest. “I definitely won’t now that I know how much you like it.”

For a moment, it was like the last three months hadn’t happened. Like we were back in the onsen, maybe, or in Frankie’s apartment the day before I’d seen those texts and everything had gone to hell. When it had just been me, and it had just been him, and we had existed together as friends, then lovers, then something even more, I thought.

My heart ached as I realized that in another world, one where there wasn’t a multinational corporation and an arrangedmarriage and a crooked family and a million other complications that threatened to keep us apart, Lucas and I probably could have made each other incredibly happy. A foot rub for me after a long day of service. A lovely meal for him after a day at the office. Sharing quiet moments by a fire while our kids slumbered upstairs.

I closed my eyes as a new wave of raw yearning swept through me.

Such simple things to want so badly.

Once he knew about the baby, he’d probably leave again. Because someone like Lucas Lyons wouldn’t want to stay in a tiny town in the south of France.

Just like I knew now that it was where I belonged.

“Marie.” His voice, deep and with a quiet sorrow that echoed the feeling in my chest, forced me to open my eyes.