Page 43 of Shattered Throne
"They will."
"But what if they don't? What if they see right through this? Through me?"
I squeezed her hand gently. "You're going to be okay," I said. "Yes, they're intimidating. Yes, they'll ask hard questions. I'mthe only fun one in this family, and I'll be right beside you the whole time. You have nothing to worry about."
I let go of her hand and turned back to the road. Ten minutes later, we pulled through the gates of the Dubois estate.
I heard Kim's breath catch.
The house rose before us like something out of a period drama. Stone and ivy and too many windows to count. A circular driveway, a fountain—of course, a fountain—and manicured gardens stretching into the darkness.
I parked the car and turned to face her. "Ready?"
"No."
"Good answer." I got out and walked around to open her door. I offered my hand. "Let's do this."
She took my hand and let me help her out. Her palm was warm, her fingers slim. I felt a slight tremor running through her, the nerves she was trying so hard to hide. I didn't let go.
"We should look like a couple," I murmured, stepping closer. "That means touching."
"I know."
"I'm going to put my arm around your waist. Is that okay?"
She nodded stiffly.
I released her hand and slid my arm around her, my palm settling against the curve of her hip. She fit against my side like she belonged there. My heart did something strange. A skip, a stutter, something I firmly ignored.
"Now we walk," I said. "Slowly. We want to look like we've done this a thousand times."
We moved toward the front door in sync. Her heels clicked on the stone. My hand pressed warm against her waist. Anyone watching would see a couple in love, comfortable with each other, natural.
No one would know my pulse was racing.
The front door flew open before we reached it. My mother rushed out, arms already spread wide, tears already glistening in her eyes.
"Xavier!" She pulled me into a hug, then immediately released me to turn to Kim. "And you must be Kim. Oh, you're beautiful. Even more beautiful than Xavier said. Come here, come here."
Before Kim could react, my mother had wrapped her in an embrace. Kim stood frozen for a moment, arms at her sides, clearly unsure what to do. Then, slowly, her hands came up to pat my mother's back.
"It's lovely to meet you, Mrs. Dubois."
"Helena. Please." My mother pulled back, cupping Kim's face in her hands. "Oh, I can see why he's so taken with you. Those eyes. And that dress! Is that Isabelle's work?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"She has wonderful taste." My mother finally released her and beamed at both of us. "Come in, come in. Everyone's waiting."
She ushered us through the door and into the cavernous foyer. Crystal chandeliers, marble floors, and family portraits lining the walls. Kim's eyes moved over everything, assessing. Her expression gave nothing away.
We followed my mother into the formal dining room.
They were all there. Sebastian was at the head of the table, because of course Sebastian was at the head of the table. Aria was beside him, her smile warm and welcoming. My grandmother, at the other end, was watching our entrance with sharp, calculating eyes. And beside my grandmother, an empty chair where my sister usually sat.
"Isabelle sends her apologies," my grandmother said. "She had business in Milan."
"Of course, she did." I guided Kim toward the table. "Everyone, this is Kim. Kim, this is everyone."
