Breach of Honor by Naomi Porter

31 Miranda

EASTER SUNDAY IN the St. James mansion had been positively beautiful. We’d just finished eating a traditional rack-of-lamb meal. The conversation was light and casual and I was relaxed, unlike the last holiday I’d spent here.

Lily attended again, but this time Simone had invited her. I loved having my best friend with me. The three of us went out onto the veranda after eating to talk about Paris. Simone spoke a mile a minute about her list of must-sees. Clearly, she loved Paris. Her face glowed, eyes wide with excitement. Every so often, she’d brush her long brown hair off her shoulders and bounce in her seat. I was glad she was feeling better. Her bout with the flu bug back in March seemed to be over.

I couldn’t keep up with her rapid-fire rattling off sites to see. My head spun with each French word that left her lips. It would be impossible for me to remember any of this.

“This sounds extensive. Maybe you could email me?” I fluttered my eyelashes. “And your French is on point.”

Simone flipped her hair off her shoulder and giggled. “Ah, merci beaucoup, belle dame.”

I frowned, unable to understand what she’d said. I’d taken Spanish in high school and college. Even so, I couldn’t speak it fluently—disgraceful no doubt.

“Thank you very much, beautiful lady.” She puckered her full lips and blew me a kiss. The shade of peach lipstick she wore was one few could pull off. She was stunning. “How about I email you a complete itinerary? But...”

Will stepped out of the house, catching the tail end of Simone’s strict orders. Follow all the sites as I list them in the email.

“What’s going on here? Is Simone playing travel agent?” He laughed, shaking his head.

“There’s so much to see in two short weeks,” she explained. “I’m just making sure Miranda gets the full Parisian experience.”

“No worries, we’ll see everything you suggest,” I assured her. Maybe. Hell, I didn’t have a clue. Will had been talking up Paris for months. Surely he had his own itinerary.

Will put his lips to the shell of my ear and whispered, “Unless we don’t leave our suite.” His words felt like a proposition, sending ripples of heat through me. My mouth went dry, thirsty for his.

Of course, he hadn’t whispered it low enough. Simone and Lily squealed with laughter, and I laughed right along with them.

I loved how we all got along, just like with my parents. Every sign I needed saying Will was the one was as visible as a billboard drenched in spotlights. Nothing meant more to me than the peace and harmony within a family.

As an only child, I’d always dreamed of being part of a big, close-knit family. I’d never had cousins or grandparents. I knew I had family somewhere in the world, since a stork hadn’t just delivered my parents to the orphanage one day. Still, I wasn’t curious enough to look for them. It would only stir up painful memories.

Growing up without a family could have destroyed my parents, but they had found each other at the orphanage. They became best friends and then lovers. When they turned eighteen, they left together and had never spent a day apart from each other. They also had unresolved feelings about the choices their parents had made giving them up. I knew it was better to leave well enough alone for their sakes.

Today was just a glimpse of what the future held, sans little kids running around the backyard hunting for colorful eggs in their Sunday best. Their giggles and smiles would melt my heart.

I turned toward Will, whose eyes were on me, and I knew he was curious about what had put me in a trance. He leaned toward me and then the moment was interrupted.

“Dessert,” Claire announced, poking her head out the french door. We all stood at once.

I’d been eyeing the lemon meringue pie on the buffet. But then, the strawberry pie looked equally delicious. As did the french silk.

Pie was one of my guilty pleasures. Desserts were my first love. If I had a slice of each, would it be tacky? Probably.

I gripped Will’s forearm and pulled him toward me. He stopped, a glint in his eyes.

“We’re having pie for dessert,” I stated the obvious, grinning sheepishly. The buffet only had pies displayed, four to be exact. I wasn’t a fan of coconut cream or coconut in general, unless in the form of a candle or body wash.

“And what about it?” He snaked his hands around my waist, eyes glimmering as he toyed with me. “Hmm?”

I pulled out my doe eyes, raking my hand up and down his abs. “You love me, dontcha?”

He nodded with a wide grin.

“And you know how I love pie, dontcha?”

“I do. Tell me what you want.” A wicked curl to his lip appeared. “Your wish is my command.”

“Okay, I’m getting a slice of the french silk.”

“I knew that.”

“And you’re getting the strawberry.”

“I am.” His grin broadened. He was so toying with me. Why?

“Can you also get a slice of lemon meringue? So I don’t look uncouth. But I also want a bite… or two of your strawberry pie.”

He threw his head back, chuckling. “Is that all you want? Nothing more?”

“Stop teasing me,” I whisper-shouted, grateful it was only the two of us on the veranda. “It’s dessert, Will. Dessert.” I made a pouty lip.

“Damn, you’re working hard. You know you can have some of mine, but I want to see a slice of all three on your plate when we bring the others home. Okay? Those are my conditions.”

“What?” I threw my arms around his neck, touching my nose to his.

“It’s pie, baby. Dessert. We always have the same thing every year. I asked my mom to order an extra of each for us to take home… just for you.”

“Mmm, I love you.” I pecked kisses over his lips and chin.

“Still want me to get the lemon?”

“Absolutely! I can’t wait until we get home tonight.”

He roared with laughter. “That’s what I thought. Let’s go get drunk on pie.” Will took my hand and kissed it.

The living room was tastefully decorated in spring colors. Arrangements of yellow, pink, and lilac tulips graced the end tables. Their green stems captured my eye through the crystal vases housing them. Brass bunnies and Fabergé eggs completed the presentation. Although, perhaps the bunnies were gold and not brass.

Nothing Claire had in her home was a knock-off, just as there was nothing fake about her. I liked her a lot, and I loved how she changed the décor to match the season.

I’d be the same way… someday.

We’d all settled in with our dessert plates in hand, various conversations floating in the air, when a man suddenly bounded into the room.

“Did you save me some pie?” He laughed, a cheerful smile and arms open wide.

“Henry!” Will’s Uncle Peter exclaimed, rushing to him. “My boy, how the hell are you?” He wrapped his arms around him and hugged him.

Oh, this guy was tall and handsome. His brown hair was cut close on the sides, long on top and swept to the side, and he sported a sexy five-o’clock shadow. I could tell he had a great body beneath his jeans and white button-down oxford shirt, casual yet high quality. And he had a smile that lit up the room. If only I could see behind his shades. If I followed his gaze, it led straight to…

Lily. My sweet friend’s cheeks were pink. I could see her breathing rapidly with intrigue.

“Sorry to intrude without calling ahead. Thought I’d surprise dear old Dad here.” He removed his glasses, and yup, his eyes were on Lily.

“Not at all,” Claire replied, hugging Henry next. “You’re always welcomed, dear.”

One by one, Henry greeted family members. Friendly banter and laughter took place. Once he made his way to Will and me, his grin turned into a smirk.

“Cousin.” Will stood with his hand out. Henry accepted but pulled Will in for a hug. “It’s good to see you. Missed you at Christmas.”

“Europe called… and so did my mother,” Henry whispered as if mentioning her was taboo.

I understood. I never brought up my parents’ history if they were in earshot. I appreciated Henry’s tact.

One late night over a bottle of Chianti, Will had told me the story behind Henry, how his mother wasn’t viewed as suitable to be a St. James. They had paid her one million dollars to sign away her parental rights so Henry could be raised by the family. I’d been much too drunk to properly react when Will had told me the tale, but I thought about him and her often.

How could she take the money and give her son away? Did Peter not love her? I wondered, given the fact he’d never married.

Seeing Henry now made it all real, and my heart ached for him. For them.

“Henry, I’d like to introduce you to Miranda Bradford, my girlfriend.”

I quickly jumped to my feet, shook myself out of my reverie, and went to shake Henry’s hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Henry.” I smiled as he formally lifted my hand and kissed the top of it.

“The pleasure is all mine. Any woman who tamed this guy must have been sent from heaven.”

Will chuckled. “Laying it on a bit thick, aren’t you?”

“I only speak the truth.” Henry winked, turning his gaze toward Lily.

“Oh, this is my friend Lily Swanson. Lily, Henry St. James,” I introduced.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Lily said softly, obviously mesmerized.

“I’m pleased to meet you as well, Miss Swanson.” Henry took her hand from her side and kissed it as well, except his lips lingered a skosh longer.

The temperature in the room shot up fifty degrees.

Henry St. James was a charming man. He made his way around the room talking with everyone, but his eyes always returned to Lily, and hers never left him.

Holy moly, the room felt like it would combust any second with the smoking-hot vibes shooting between the two of them.