Libitz shook her head. “She died when I was a baby.”
J.C. nodded, turning onto Blueberry Lane and stopping at the gate in front of Le Chateau to enter a code into the security pad. “We’re here.”
“You know, I just thought of something,” she said. “You mentioned that your sister found Les Bijoux Jolis in the attic, right?”
“Oui.”
“Well…do you think there could be anything else up there? Letters? A journal? Something to tell us a little bit more about the painting? I’d love to know more about it.”
J.C. wanted to kick himself that he hadn’t thought of it before now. “I’m sure Jax wouldn’t mind if we took a look around.”
She raised her eyebrows and nodded with approval as he parked the car and cut the engine. “A treasure hunt. I can’t wait.”
***
Half an hour later, after Gard had helped move the heavy cradle to the back seat of Jean-Christian’s convertible and Libitz had exchanged pleasantries with Jax over coffee, Jax led them up four flights of stairs to the attic of Le Chateau, telling them to behave themselves as she headed back downstairs for a conference call with some TV executives in New York.
“Behave ourselves?” scoffed Libitz, batting at a creepy cobweb hanging from the low, raftered ceiling. “What exactly does she think we’re going to do up here?”
Jean-Christian chuckled softly from behind her, but his laughter stopped as his arms wrapped around her waist and the heat of his lips pressed against the back of her neck. “This?”
A shiver rushed down Libitz’s spine as she leaned her head back against his chest and closed her eyes. Damn him, but he knew how to make her wet in an instant.
“Or this,” he purred, sliding one hand under her blouse and resting it flat on the warm skin of her stomach as he bit her earlobe.
“Or this,” he said, scoring her neck with his teeth as he raised his hand to her breast and gently squeezed it through her bra.
Libitz whimpered softly, turning in his arms and looking up into his dark and dilated eyes.
“What does Neil have that I don’t?”
She gulped over the lump that instantly formed in her throat. “Did you know I’ll be thirty on December 17?” She nodded. “I will. I’ll be thirty years old.”
“Okay…,” he said slowly, searching her face like he wasn’t sure where she was going. “I’ll be thirty-five on April 11.”
She took a deep breath, forcing herself to hold his eyes as she shared her truth. “I want kids, Jean-Christian. I want a home. I want to spend my life with someone I love, someone who loves me back.”
He nodded almost imperceptibly, his expression darkening.
“I…God, it would have been so much easier if I’d met you a year ago,” she said. “Before Kate and étienne reconnected. Before thirty started looming on the horizon. I would have slept with you, no problem. And I would’ve been able to walk away with a wave and a smile.”
His brows furrowed, and she tried to back out of his arms, surprised when he tightened them around her.
“I’ve had a lot of fantastic sex,” she said. “Like you, I’ve had a lot of fun. I don’t regret it. I wouldn’t trade it.” She pursed her lips, dropping his eyes. “But it’s time for something else now.”
“Does Neil want what you want? A wife and kids? Forever?”
She thought of Neil—of his strawberry-blond hair and the freckles on his arms. She pictured his eyes, soft and tender, when he looked at her, his arms bearing gifts: flowers, Challah, kindness, goodness, stability…
She looked up at Jean-Christian’s handsome face and nodded. “Yes.”
“Does Neil want you?”
If she wasn’t certain of Neil’s intentions, Jean-Christian’s question might have hurt her, might have stung. But she was certain. Neil had fallen for her over a year ago—his persistence in pursuing her told her so. His voice when she asked him to stay over on Monday night told her all she needed to know.
“Yes,” she said. “Neil wants me. Only me.”
She didn’t mean it as a dig against Jean-Christian, only as a truthful answer to his question. But his countenance cooled immediately, and he released her, reaching up to rub his chin with his thumb and forefinger, looking over her head at the boxes, trunks, and furniture behind her. He must have been holding his breath, because he released it with a huff, avoiding her eyes.
“Well, then. That’s that.”
It doesn’t have to be! a voice inside of her bellowed. It could be you and me, if you wanted me…if you wanted what I want from life.