“There are two of you? How did your island stay above water with a pair of Heith-Benzan sisters storming about?”
“You’re far less amusing than you think,” she said as soberly as she could manage.
“And yet I keep making you laugh.”
“Atyou, notwithyou,” she retorted. His lips twitched, and his eyes were bright with humor. He looked younger when he smiled, and so handsome—devastatingly so.
He didn’t comment immediately, and they walked in companionable silence for another minute before Evan spoke again.
“You were very good in there. Dairoku was impressed too.” He almost sounded surly. As if the words had left his mouth without his consent. But they didn’t sound insincere. The man truly kept her emotions swinging on a pendulum.
“Thank you,” she said shortly, unsure of how to respond. It had been a long time since she’d been offered any validation for her work. She’d gotten the medal last night, but that was for the rum. Not her work.Herefforts. It was pathetic that such a simple gesture had her almost in tears, but she was parched for some recognition from someone other than her friends.
Joyful laughter rang through the air, and Luz noticed a group of children playing in the fountain underneath Gustave Eiffel’s tower. They were dressed in the smart, colorful frocks so typical of French children. One little girl of about six years was being chased by another, both shrieking with absolute delight. Their braids had come undone but neither seemed to notice. Luz thought of Clarita, of how little time she’d had to be a child since they’d left the island, to play with other children.
“It’s true about Dairoku.” Evan’s voice jolted her. “He is shrewd and extremely selective of who he does business with.” He paused when she glanced at him. He seemed to be weighing his words. “I would’ve thought you’d take advantage of the opportunity and present him with all the spirits you are producing.”
She should’ve known he would not leave that alone.
She sighed inwardly, searching for a response. Because she couldn’t say the true reason: that she’d finally had a successful day and she didn’t have the strength to have the Dama Juana, which she’d created with such love and enthusiasm, be dismissed as undesirable. She’d thought about it, of course. She’d brought the smaller box with two cordials she’d created and the Dama Juana. But even after Dairoku shared with her that his great-aunt had been the largest sake maker in Japan for forty years, and that the older woman’s empire was so large she had her own fleet of ships, Luz Alana hadn’t been brave enough to offer Dairoku anything beside the rum.
“I forgot them,” she lied.
Evan made a noise that sounded a lot likeI don’t believe that for a second, but he let it go. “I’m afraid I must excuse myself, Luz Alana,” Raghav said, startling her. She’d almost forgotten the man was right behind them. “I have a previous engagement. I’m sure Sinclair would be happy to escort you back the rest of the way.” He sent Evan a look that would’ve made a lesser man stand at attention.
“I don’t need an escort,” she hedged, reaching for her bag, which Evan had refused to let her carry out of the meeting with Dairoku.
“I will leave you both to resolve this,” Raghav said before he rushed off, leaving her and Evan to stare at each other as people brushed past. Neither of them said anything for a long moment, but after a third person almost knocked her over, she extended a hand.
“Thank you, Mr. Sinclair,” she told him. “I appreciate the help you offered me today.” He reached for her hand and gripped it as though he meant to keep her there.
After this she’d have no reason to see him again. Not in Paris, and in Scotland he likely would be busy. Something inside her screamed to say anything, do anything to keep him there for bit longer. She knew the urge for what it was.
She desired him. Beyond that undeniable fact, she liked how he looked at her. As if he could see right through the mask of confidence and optimism she so painstakingly donned and the mess of doubt and exhaustion that lay behind it didn’t put him off one bit. She forced herself to recall what she’d always thought of a man’s attentions:they were never worth the cost of her freedom. She steeled herself against her racing heart, the warmth blooming inside her from his touch. This was a mirage, she told herself.This will leave you empty-handed and with a mouth full of sand.
She pried her lips open to say something blandly polite and final, to say a goodbye. He spoke first.
“Would you—” He looked unsure. A self-conscious smile appeared on his lips, and Luz wondered if she’d have to catalog Evan Sinclair’s smiles by their degree of transcendence. “Are you hungry?”
“Hungry?” She said the word as if it was a foreign concept even as butterflies took flight inside her. She should leave this as it was. Not risk making things awkward with the one person who’d offered her help. It had been such a triumph of a day so far. She should take this victory and be on her way; instead she stood there wondering why he hadn’t mentioned the kiss.
“I’d have to get back in an hour. I promised my sister I’d take her to Cairo Street,” she offered in answer, and he gave her a smile that transformed his entire face.
It was quite simple, really. She didn’t have the strength to walk away from him.
Not yet.
“Very well, I promise to return you intact and on time.”
On time, perhaps.Intactwas not even a remote possibility.
Eight
“I keep a table at a small brasserie just on avenue de Suffren.” Evan pointed toward the gate which was assigned only to exhibitors. “We will be seated immediately.”
“Youkeepa table?” She raised an eyebrow in question.
“It’s a small place, a family restaurant, and normally I come in after the lunch rush,” he explained.
