Authors: Nikki Jefford
Charlene stopped what she
was doing and narrowed her eyes. “I’m not afraid of anyone, but I’m
not stupid, either.” She followed the last bit up with a look that
indicated she thought otherwise about Gray. “I’m getting the hell
out of here, and I suggest you do the same.”
“That’s actually why I’m
here.”
Charlene grabbed a pair of
trousers and froze. She craned her head slowly, locking eyes with
Gray. A smile spread across her man lips. “Came to your senses, did
you?”
“Actually Adrian has
something of mine and since he left for Paris . . .”
“Adrian.” Charlene groaned
and went back to packing. “I thought you were done with that
fool.”
“I am,” Gray said quickly.
She took a breath. “Like I said, he has something of
mine.”
Charlene made a noise
similar to a sigh, but being French, it came out all exasperated.
“Fine, get whatever it is you need from him and then move on, but
you’re staying with me. You’re going to have the time of your life,
Lee,” Charlene said, suddenly getting excited. “No one knows Paris
like me, not even native Parisians.” Her chest puffed up at this.
“Besides, family should stick together.”
So now Charlene wanted to
play the friendly twin. Probably since Gray was the only real
family she had left.
“Fine,” Gray said. She
didn’t have time to bicker at the speed Charlene was bailing on
Barcelona. “Should I meet you back here or at the
airport?”
“Where are you
going?”
“To get my things from the
hostel.”
“There’s no time for that,”
Charlene snapped. “We need to go now.”
Gray looked around and
raised a brow. It looked like Charlene had plenty of packing
left.
Charlene, following her
gaze, nodded slowly. “What was I thinking?” She snapped her fingers
and all the garments disappeared from around the room. Every
suitcase in the room was now full. Charlene went from one to
another, zipping them closed.
“I’ll go get my things,”
Gray said, heading for the door.
“Lee, did you not hear me?
We have to go!”
“Not without my things.” So
much for not bickering.
Charlene nodded at the
purse over Gray’s shoulder. “You have your purse. I’ll replace your
clothes. Trust me, they need replacing if I’m going to be seen in
public with you.”
“Hey!” Gray cried out.
“What happened to family sticking together, or is that contingent
on my apparel?”
Charlene sighed. “Gray,
you’re going to be in France.”
Charlene must mean business
to call Gray by her preferred name. Gray sighed. Maybe she should
take the train to Paris. It would give her time to work on basic
conversational French. Then again, the sooner she reached her
destination the sooner she could locate Adrian. And the only reason
she was in any hurry to find him was to reverse the spell. Yep,
that was the reason and she was sticking to it.
“Fine, if it’s that
important to you. I’m not sure you noticed, but Spain is every bit
as chic as
France
.”
This only made Charlene
smile. “Grab some bags and let’s go. I’d lend you some of my own
clothes if I could, but, well . . .”
“You’re a man?” Gray
supplied.
Charlene winked.
Gray hoisted a travel bag
over her shoulder than grabbed the handle on two rolling suitcases.
“How come I can’t bring my own duffel bag and you get like twenty
suitcases?”
“Twenty,” Charlene huffed.
“Exaggerate much?”
Good thing the hallway at
the penthouse level was clear because Charlene’s suitcases took up
the entire elevator—even if it was seven bags and not twenty. The
people waiting to board at lower levels of the hotel were plumb out
of luck.
A taxi driver in front of
the Majestic tried to tell Charlene in Spanish that her girlfriend
must like shopping. After Charlene gave the driver a blank stare,
Gray informed him in Spanish that actually it was her “brother” who
was the shopaholic.
The driver looked back at
Charlene and shook his head.
Gray nodded. Whatever the
driver was thinking, she most likely agreed.
Charlene beat Gray to the
backdoor and slid inside the taxi before her. Gray glared at her
back before following her sister in. If Char wanted to pull off the
whole guy thing she ought to let ladies go first. And if she wanted
to pull off a
European
guy, she should have opened the door for Gray. Well, looks
and money most likely went a long way.
“Take us to the airport,”
Charlene commanded the driver as soon as he slid into the front
seat.
Yeah, manners weren’t
exactly Charlene’s forte.
Gray leaned forward.
“
Por favor, nos llevara al
aeropuerto
.”
“
Si,
señorita
.”
“I can’t wait to get back
to France,” Charlene said, staring out the window.
The cab pulled into
traffic. Gray turned away from Charlene to stare out her own
window. She heard guitar music at the first red light. Gray slowly
turned her head and focused on the young man singing while
strumming his guitar on the sidewalk. His eyes were half-closed.
Gray’s stomach tightened. For years she had dreamed of spending a
summer in Spain and now she was being dragged off to
Paris?
Gray glanced at the
handlebar. No one was forcing her to go to France. It’s not like
she even had a plane ticket. And she still had her duffel bag at
the
Centric Point.
The guitarist finished his song. When his
eyes opened they met Gray’s. He smiled lazily. Like Carlo.
Scoundrels, the lot of them
, Hannah’s voice said inside
Gray’s head.
Whether or not she stayed, no matter where
she went, Gray wouldn’t be free until she broke the love spell.
Her head snapped forward, and she stared at
the light.
Green
, Gray thought, smiling as the light turned
on cue.
Charlene tapped her fingers across her thigh
most of the drive. If only her sister would face her nemesis head
on once and for all rather than fleeing. As far as Gray was
concerned, Ryan was Charlene’s problem. Pear-head really needed to
move on and find a new obsession.
Charlene was the first one out of the cab
once they reached the airport. Gray scooped up as many bags as she
could, making sure to leave the heaviest. Physically, “Charles”
really was a man—muscles and all.
The baggage did nothing to slow Charlene down
once they entered the terminal. Gray found herself jogging to keep
up as Charlene made her way to the line in front of the Air France
counter. Rather than stop at the back of the line, Charlene kept
going until she reached the front. How very French of her. She made
eye contact with a ticket agent as soon as the woman finished with
a customer.
“Platinum,” Charlene announced.
That one word gained her a welcoming smile
and a motion to come forward. Gray hesitated behind Charlene,
avoiding the looks from passengers waiting in line.
“
Viens!”
Charlene said
impatiently.
Something about her tone made Gray hurry to
her side. She made sure to keep her back to the line behind
them.
“
Bonjour
,” the ticket agent said in a
clear voice.
“
Bonjour
,” Charlene returned. She
tossed a ticket and ID onto the counter.
“J'ai aussi besoin d'un
billet
pour ma
sœur.”
The agent began tapping on her computer.
“
Premi
è
re classe
?”
Charlene plopped an arm on the countertop.
“
Oui . . .
à côté de moi
.”
Charlene
managed to make
oui
sound like the most erotic word in the French language the
way she drew it out slow and sensual.
The agent must have thought
so, too. The demure way she lowered her eyes gave the impression
she’d do anything for “Charles.” After returning Charlene’s
oui
with an equally
sensual gaze she tapped at the keyboard as deftly as an instrument
she’d mastered. The clatter stopped. The agent leaned slightly
forward to deliver her next lines to Charlene.
Whatever Charlene had asked for must have
worked because both she and the agent were smiling . . . plus Char
reached for her wallet.
Charlene turned to Gray with a grin while the
agent was running her credit card. “Two business class seats side
by side.”
That done, they began the process of checking
in the luggage. Any guilt Gray may have felt at Charlene buying her
a first class ticket dissolved after hoisting the fourth case onto
the scale. Good thing Gray had come along, otherwise Charlene would
probably have had to pay the equivalent of another plane ticket for
the excess luggage.
“Come on,” Charlene said once the bags were
checked in. “We have about thirty minutes before our flight
boards.”
In addition to major
metropolitan cities, Charlene apparently knew her way around
international airports. Now that she was free of the luggage, her
legs moved even faster. She made her way to an escalator. A
Sala VIP
sign pointed up
and that was exactly the direction Charlene headed.
Gray hustled to keep up. She didn’t exactly
relish following behind Charlene like her porter. They entered a
VIP waiting room with dark wood floors, cushy black leather chairs,
and a glass wall overlooking the terminal below.
A woman in a black blazer
and red scarf tied around her neck stepped forward.
“Quelque chose
à
boire?
Magazine?”
Charlene flashed her smooth dude grin and accepted a copy
of
GQ
magazine.
“Merci.”
“
Il n’y a pas de
quoi.”
The lounge attendant didn’t offer Gray a
magazine. Maybe she didn’t look chic enough in her sundress.
“Great,” Gray said grumpily. “We’re not even
in France yet, and I’m already surrounded by French.”
Charlene smirked. “Better get used to it.”
She made her way to a chair in the far corner, sat, and stretched
her legs. For lack of anything better to do, Gray took the seat
beside Charley boy. Charlene dug around inside her messenger bag,
pulled out the yellow goggles, and put them on.
“Those look ridiculous,” Gray said.
“Do not.”
“Do so.” Gray smiled to
herself. She crossed one leg over the other and began shaking her
foot while Charlene turned the pages in her
GQ
magazine beside her.
“Can you stop that, please?”
“What? I’m bored?”
Charlene reached inside her bag and thrust an
iTouch and ear buds into Gray’s lap. “Here.”
“Thanks,” Gray said cheerfully and
immediately began to scan Charlene’s playlists.
Let’s see what’s in
favorites
, Gray thought, tapping the
screen with her finger.
Gray immediately burst into laughter.
Charlene glared at her. “What now?”
Gray tried to stop laughing, but when she
looked down at the screen, it came bubbling out harder. She stopped
and cleared her throat. “You call yourself a man, a
Frenchman
, and you’re still listening to Britney
Spears?”
Charlene pushed the sunglasses onto her head.
“I may look like a man, but I’m still me, and I still love
Britney.”
“Okay, okay,” Gray said, raising her hands as
though in surrender. For once her sister had a point. Just because
Gray now inhabited Charlene’s body didn’t mean she suddenly wanted
to drink Slim-Fast or wear a negligee . . . or bust a move to
Britney!
Gray switched over to the iTouch’s movie
menu. The device was probably filled with chick flicks. Tap.
Yep.
This time she kept her mouth shut.
Good thing the flight to Paris was only an
hour and a half.
A chauffeur stood waiting outside
of luggage at Charles de Gaulle airport holding a sign for “Jean
Luc.”
Gray nearly wheeled
Charlene’s cart of luggage past him. The moment they landed
Charlene had been all over her iPhone, and Gray was tired of
standing by waiting for her to finish jabbering.
Finally, Charlene had to
lower the phone to call out, “I have a driver right
here!”
Gray returned the driver’s
greeting and let him take over the cart. Charlene kept speaking
into her phone in rapid French the entire drive.
Gray stared out the window
as they joined the stream of traffic gushing and snagging along the
edges of Paris.
The pit in Gray’s stomach
expanded. She felt homesick for Barcelona.
Adrian’s here
, she told herself. The
thought gave her a small dose of comfort.
Forty minutes later they
pulled up to an iron gate. There were too many hedges growing along
the gates to see inside the property. The driver spoke into an
electronic box. Gray wished Charlene would put down the phone
already, but her man-sister was still rattling away in French,
chuckling as she did so.