the scent of the Creed tuberose fragrance she wore, her signature shampoo was as familiar to him as his own breath, and he inhaled deeply, feeling the comfort and warmth of her seep through to his bones like a tonic. To the world she was Harrison Marshall’s spoiled and indulged daughter, often considered a flake and ridiculed or referred to unkindly in the media. But to Thom, she was his Elana. His best freaking friend in the whole world.
He would marry her. And he’d be faithful. He’d make it work. For both of them. He had to.
He had no other choice.
Elana was never going to admit to anyone that she had never really cared for Paris.
After all, it was Paris.
But she preferred the warmth and sunshine of California to the cool Parisian evenings. And she preferred her own room and the familiarity of her own things at Casa Cat. The truth was, she’d never been much of a traveler. But this trip was important to her mother, so she would make the best of it.
Besides, she had Rafe for company. Her brother had agreed to accompany her, and she was delighted to spend time with her favorite sibling. He wasn’t as serious and disapproving as Luc, or as brooding and mysterious as Gabe. Rafe understood her. And it went both ways. She knew their father disapproved of him, even though he feigned tolerance. But she’d always loved Rafe for who he was—a kind, compassionate and creative man who had so much to offer the world. They had the same sense of humor, enjoyed the same movies and music, and shared many of the same friends. Like Thom. She knew her brother supported her marriage and would always be her greatest ally in her family. And she loved him for always showing his support—even when he disagreed with her choices. Like Jarrod. But even if he scolded her, he would only ever do it in private. That was how it had always been between them.
And shopping at the best fashion houses on Boulevard Saint-Germain and Champs-Elysees wasn’t exactly a hardship. She’d been pampered and indulged for over two hours, selecting her trousseau with as much enthusiasm as she could muster. Retail therapy always worked when she was in a funk. And Rafe had promised to accompany her to Montmartre later that afternoon so she could explore some of her favorite shops without their mother’s disapproval casting a shadow from across the ocean. Plus, the explicit texts she been getting from Jarrod all morning had lightened her mood. The man certainly knew which buttons to push. Even if it did make her miss him like crazy. And want him. She couldn’t wait to be in his bed again. She craved him so much it hurt having so many miles between them. Surely he understood why she had to marry Thom. It was for the family. To preserve their reputation. To give the appearance of unity and strength. And she had her role to play, as everyone else did.
“You know,” Rafe drawled, glass in hand, ankles crossed as he stretched out on the brocade chaise across from her, “your French is way better than your Spanish. Why is that, I wonder?”
Elana shrugged her slender shoulders and offered him a cheeky grin. “Not as many expectations, I suppose.”
“You mean, because Mariella isn’t breathing down your neck telling you to enunciate your vowels,” he said, mimicking their mother’s husky voice, and they both laughed loudly.
Elana got her laughter under control and quickly met her brother’s gaze. “Why do you and Luc refer to her as Mariella? You know she hates it. And since you’re her favorite child...”
As her words trailed off, Rafe shrugged and then smiled. “She only pretends to hate it.”
“Because you can do no wrong in her eyes?”
He laughed. “Are you serious? I’m like the family’s number-one disappointment.”
“You are not,” she said and shook her head, still smiling. “I am.”
“Nope,” Rafe said and grinned wider. “That’s my claim to fame. I mean, we all know that Luc is Mother’s favorite. She’s always treated him differently than the rest of us. And you’re the baby of the family, so you get a free pass. Although sometimes I think Gabe is her favorite.”
“That’s because he’s her nephew,” Elana explained and smirked. “You know, abandoned, fatherless child, et cetera...pity is a solid motivator.”
“So, now she pities Gabe. What about me...don’t I deserve some pity, too? I really think I’m this family’s number-one black sheep.”
“Oh, please,” Elana said dramatically. “I’m definitely this family’s biggest disappointment. I didn’t go to college. Let’s be honest, I barely made it through high school. I’m window dressing for the business, that’s all. So I won’t have you trying to steal that crown from me.”
Rafe stuck his chin out. “I think I could pull off a tiara as well as you, little sister.”
She laughed loudly. “Of course you could,” she said and reached across the small coffee table to grab the sparkly headpiece that matched the earrings she’d added to her trousseau. “Want to try this on for size?”
“You think I won’t?”
Elana loved that her brother was always up for a dare. “Be my guest.”
Rafe reached across and grabbed the small tiara, propping it on his head with a laugh. “See...perfect.”
“You look so pretty.”
Her brother quickly ditched the headpiece and laughed. “We all know that Luc is the pretty boy in the family. And he’s a doctor. And he has a perfectly beautiful and well-connected girlfriend. Even if Rachel is so cold you could freeze ice cubes on her ass. Yes, Luc’s the whole package.”
“But you’re nicer,” she assured him, chuckling. “Anyway, I always thought Gabe was the handsome one.”
“And Dad’s favorite,” he said and grinned.
“Don’t let Luc hear you say that. Besides, I think Gabe has taken Dad’s accident personally...like he feels he should have protected him, or something.”
Rafe frowned. “Protected him from what?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know...it’s just a feeling. You know they work closely together. He’s Dad’s right-hand man.”
“The son he wished he always had,” Rafe said with a cynical smile.
But Elana wasn’t fooled. She knew her brother craved to be held in the same esteem as their cousin or Luc. “You know that Dad has always found it hard to show how he feels about things.”
“About me, you mean?” Rafe said and raised a dark brow. “It’s okay, Elana... I know he loves me. It’s just that sometimes...sometimes he acts as though he wishes he didn’t, if that makes sense. Anyway, let’s not get maudlin. Let’s talk about happy things. Like your wedding.”
Elana let out a long sigh. “Thom wanted to elope. He called the wedding a circus,” she said and sipped some champagne, looking around at the racks of gowns and the almost vulgar sense of wealth that surrounded them. The place reeked of opulence and entitlement. It really wasn’t her thing. Elana preferred a little more edge to her wardrobe. “I’m beginning to think he’s right.”
“Thom just wants to keep you safe.”
“Do you think?” she asked, thinking it seemed a strange thing for her brother to say. “Safe from what?”
“Overexposure,” he replied and shrugged. “Bad press. Particularly after that scuffle Luc and I got into recently.”
“Scuffle?” she echoed, one brow arched.
Rafe grinned. “Luc likes to think he can still beat me in a fight. Which he usually can,” he said and rubbed his jaw at the memory. “But I’ll never let him know that. Besides, you know the Scotts haven’t hogged the limelight like the Marshalls have