Great. Fantastic. Aces. What a fucking mess.
And yet the baby growing in Kate’s belly was his blood, his flesh, part of his family, and already safely housed within his heart. The minute he’d heard her name, he’d included that child under the umbrella of profound love and unswerving protection reserved for his siblings only. Noelle Rousseau was his niece and his goddaughter. Fuck Libitz Feingold if she didn’t like it. She’d have to learn to live with it. He wasn’t going anywhere, goddamnit.
He smiled at Kate, certain that he’d never had to work harder to appear pleased. “Wonderful.”
Kate snickered. “That’s what I thought.”
“J.C.!” said Jax, placing the ice bucket on the coffee table. “Let me show you the painting before dinner. Mad? Pour the wine? We’ll be back in a sec to toast our new niece!”
Grateful to be able to leave the room for a moment, J.C. followed Jax up the twisting staircase of Le Chateau, mostly ignoring her chattering about what she’d found in the attic since the ownership of the mansion had been turned over to her and Gard.
What would Libitz think of the fact that they’d be sharing such important roles in Noelle’s life? Would she co-godparent with class, or would he need to be on his guard, waiting for her to poison his little niece’s head with whisperings of her evil Parrain Jean-Christian? Well, screw that. No one was getting between him and his goddaughter. He’d make damn sure of that.
“…I thought about taking it to an appraiser, but I know nothing about where to go or who to ask. Plus I’m not really sure it’s my style anyway. I guess it’s been up here for ages. It’s signed by Pierre Montferrat, who must be one of Maman’s cousins? I don’t know. Anyway…”
J.C. plodded up the attic stairs behind Jax, thinking about the kind of godparents his niece deserved—the kind of godparents he wanted her to have. He couldn’t be in an active fight with Noelle’s godmother. No. That wasn’t okay. It wouldn’t be okay for her. Noelle deserved the best of everything. She needed a safe and secure circle of adults who loved her, not two lunatics who fought every time they were in the same room.
So, fine. The next time he saw Libitz, he’d apologize to for calling her a “bitch.” He’d explain that he was a little drunk and she’d wounded his pride, but he’d had no right to say such a thing to her. An hour earlier, he would have as soon rotted in hell than apologize to that shrew, but this wasn’t just about him and Libitz now. It was about Noelle. And just as he’d loved her father enough to protect him from ugliness, he’d do the same for his niece.
“…seriously, I can’t figure it out because she’s so familiar, it’s driving me crazy. It’s like I’ve seen her before, but…Well, you’ll see. Anyway, it’s probably not worth much, but here it is.”
J.C. finally focused on what Jax was saying, looking up as she flicked on a light and pulled a large canvas into the center of the dusty attic. He looked up at the back of the old canvas.
“See here? It says, Les Bijoux Jolis. I’m guessing that’s the title?”
He nodded distractedly. “Probably.”
So it was settled. The next time he came face-to-face with Libitz Feingold, he’d apologize.
Jax reached for the top corners of the large canvas to turn the portrait around, and J.C.’s jaw dropped as he stared at the painting. His breath caught. His blood raced cold. He blinked, wondering if he was hallucinating, then stepped forward to take a closer look at the woman in the portrait. She wasn’t stunning, but she was memorable, her body naked but for an emerald necklace she wore around her neck, her jet-black hair and wide eyes achingly familiar.
The murmured words “I’m sorry” left his lips on the very tail of a released breath.
The thing is, he hadn’t expected to come face-to-face with her again quite so soon.
Chapter 4
“I can juggle things, Lib,” said Neil from the easy chair in her bedroom, watching as she packed her suitcase. “If you want me there, I can make it. I really want to meet Kate.”
Libitz looked up from folding a pair of jeans and shook her head. “Rosh Hashanah’s in two weeks. I know how busy you are.”
“So what? Aaron can handle it.”
Libitz stopped what she was doing and put her hands on her hips. “No. I can’t let you do that.”
Neil gave her a pointed look. “Or maybe you’re not ready to introduce us yet?”
“No!” Libitz dropped his eyes, turning her back to him as she pulled a crisp white button-down blouse from her closet and removed the hanger. “You know that’s not the reason.”
“Do I?”
She glanced up at him, wishing her cheeks weren’t flushing, though she could feel the heat rising in them. “Yes. You do.”