CHAPTER FOUR

      “WELL, THAT REALLY was high. So this had better be quite the hamburger,” Amelia said as they waited for their food.

      The tram had taken nearly an hour, which Amelia had seemed honor-bound to fill up with Amelia-like chatter. About birds, and trees. And how blue the sky was.

      And all he’d been able to think about was how her lips had looked wrapped around the strawberry. And from there, his mind had gone to how her lips might look if they were wrapped around his—

      Yes, he’d had to adjust his thinking quite often. Among other things.

      “I imagine it will be,” he said. “Since it’s closer to Denver.”

      “That doesn’t apply to all food, just foods with Denver in the name.” She rolled her eyes and took a French fry out of the basket in front of them.

      “That makes more sense than what I was thinking.”

      “Do you have culture shock yet from leaving Paris and all its pastries behind?”

      He lifted a shoulder and took a fry from the basket. “No. New York has everything I want. Plus it’s missing a lot of things I’d rather not deal with.”

      “Your family.”

      “Exactly.”

      “What happened with your dad? I mean … we’ve never talked about him. I know it was a huge deal in Europe when you left the firm.”

      “Because my father is a tyrant, and why I worked with him for as long as I did is … well, it is a mystery to me. I was raised to take over the firm, and I did. I was raised to marry a suitable woman, and for a while it seemed I would do both. I had Marie, who was so very perfect to be the queen for the Chevalier kingdom. Until it all came crashing down. And there was a point where I was still working to keep my father’s empire running, while my brother went out and did what he pleased … and I asked myself why I was still working so hard for something I didn’t even care about.”

      “You got an answer, I take it?”

      “No. I got no answer. And that was when I decided to leave. If you don’t know why you’re working sixty-to-eighty-hour workweeks, you shouldn’t be working them.”

      “I don’t suppose.”

      “I also found out my father had been stealing money. From the business, from clients. So after I set the law on him, I left.”

      “You were the one who … who broke all of that open?”

      “Yes. I am. Don’t tell me you secretly imagined I might be involved in the crime?”

      “I seriously never did,” she said. “You’re too much of a rule follower.”

      Luc frowned. Under normal circumstances he wouldn’t mind being called a rule follower. But for some reason, coming from her just now, it sounded very unexciting. And as though it might be the real reason he hadn’t had sex in nearly a year.

      “Well, I’m glad to think you don’t believe I could be a criminal,” he said.

      “Though,” she said, “I’m starting to think that I can be very stupid about people.”

      “Why is that?”

      “Just … reasons.”

      Right then, a waiter set their plates in front of them. Two very large cheeseburgers. The view, which was all snow-capped trees and gray rock jutting up beyond them, was at odds with the food. One was common, the other altogether unique. Wild.

      Then there was Amelia. She seemed more a part of this than Manhattan somehow. Perhaps because she defied the clean, sleek steel of the city. Because she was nonuniform and bright. Because she was modern and vintage, and Christmas carols and snark.

      “What are your reasons? I just told you my secrets.”

      She shook her head. “Mine are not really … mine. I know that doesn’t make sense but … it’s true.”

      “Fair enough,” he said. “We’re not really on a date, after all. Just testing out the food.”

      “And it is good,” she said, taking a bite of her cheeseburger.

      “Well, I’m glad it was worth the trek.”

      They ate in silence. Well, relative silence. Sometimes Amelia hummed while she chewed.

      “Ready to head back down the mountain?”

      “Uh, sure, I guess so.”

      He left the voucher that had been included with the brochure on the table and they walked back to the tram. “Ready?”

      “Yep.”

      He walked into the yellow car and held his hand out. She took it and he lifted her inside. Her hands were so soft. Warm.

      The attendant slid the door shut, and the car began to move along the cable, out of the station and back over the trees, over the valley that ran between the mountains.

      “Wow,” she said. “This is incredible. Also, though, when you look straight down it makes you slightly dizzy.”

      “Then don’t look down,” he said.

      “It’s kind of a rush,” she said, leaning toward the window, her forehead pressed against the glass. “Smoother than an airplane. And it feels more real. It feels a lot more like flying in some ways.”

      “You were the kind of girl who would dream of flying, I think,” he said. He wasn’t sure why he’d said it. He only knew it was true.

      She looked at him and smiled, a dimple in her left cheek dipping inward. “I did. I made myself cardboard wings and used glue and gold glitter to make them sparkle. I was fifteen. It wasn’t so socially acceptable.”

      “You seem like you don’t care much for convention, anyway.”

      “You know, I don’t in some ways. I mean, society can take a flying leap. But in other ways … I know what it’s like to have family expectations of you. I mean … sure it wasn’t running a bank or anything but … I’m really close to my parents and I know they see me a certain way. That they see my future a certain way. And if they were tyrants or criminals, then maybe I could walk away, but they aren’t. I love them. And I’m just always afraid of disappointing them.”

      “How could you possibly disappoint them?”

      She lifted a shoulder. “There are ways, I’m sure. It’s just … in my family there are a lot of emotions.”

      “You have sisters,” he said.

      “Yes, I do. And you know that because a Chevalier never forgets.”

      “True enough.”

      They rode the rest of the way in silence, which was beyond unusual for Amelia, her face pale, her cheeks and lips a stark pink in contrast, her gaze focused on the view. She looked oddly serious. And sad. It made his stomach twist.

      The car touched down at the other station, and he helped Amelia out. “Ready for the massage?”

      “What did I tell you about the massage?” she asked.

      “Do you really want to skip this? We’re testing out the facility.”

      The