Free The Accidental Mistress by Sienna Mynx Page A

minute. I need to get my head
together."
    Joi walked up and she leaned against the
railing like Zuri, staring at nothing. "Are you okay?"
    "You and mère should have told me
the minute it happened. Her I understand, but you know better. What
if he...what if it was worse?"
    "You have the bar exam to
take. I didn't want — "
    "So what? Did you not think that I love him?
Love this family?"
    "Zuri, of course we know you do. He's proud
of you. We all are. We just wanted to protect you."
    Zuri shook her head. Her sister wasn't at
fault. If they perceived her law degree to be that important, it
was only because Zuri shouted it to her lungs when she defied her
father's wishes and remained in the States.
    "Well it's my turn to protect you. I'm going
back to Fort de France with you and help you deal with these
Montague people."
    "The exam is most important. You got that
nice job in Chicago; they paid for your graduate studies, for your
exam. You have to go back."
    "How can I? If père loses the Oasis, the
Lagoon, or this place, it will kill him. You and I both know that.
He doesn't deserve to be in there paralyzed. We have to protect
him, Joi. He's done that for us."
    Joi smiled. "I'm in over my head. I admit
that."
    Zuri hugged her sister. She had changed. Her
hair, now shoulder length, was dark with a riot of curls, electric
blue streaks and was styled in a fashionable way. She was a woman
now, fiercely independent and uniquely free spirited. And she had
found her identity and purpose right here at home.
    "I promise you we'll beat this and save our
family. We're Claude Baptiste daughters after all. We learned from
the best!" Zuri said.
    ***
    Christophe strolled out to his balcony for
some night air. From his elevated view, the New York skyline
twinkled. He sipped his lager. The day had ended reasonably well,
but a visit with his mother always set him on edge. He considered
hitting the gym but dismissed the idea when he remembered the pile
of work waiting for him in his briefcase. A night in front of the
TV with Sports Center on, and a belly full of a microwave dinner
was in his future.
    Christophe leaned out over his balcony.
Bachelorhood had become so predictably gratifying he doubted he'd
ever feel the need for more. His eyes lifted to the moon. There
were times when he considered something missing in his life. Times
when he reflected on his choices, and his abandoned dreams, and
even more there were moments that he remembered Zuri.
    Christophe sipped his beer again. She was
the last woman he held and felt something. Every inch of her,
including how sweetly she felt in his arms, was burned into his
brain. Why shouldn't she enter his thoughts when his lonely
existence became his glaring truth? His self-imposed bachelorhood
had a no-strings attachment clause that most women shied away from.
The few beauties to share his bed often thought they’d convince him
otherwise and he’d immediately end all contact. In the past six
months he just settled on celibacy.
    Christophe raised his beer and saluted the
moon. “To bachelorhood.”
    Christophe tossed the final swallow of beer
down. The phone in his pocket vibrated, which he removed and swiped
his thumb over the display to activate the caller. "Yes?"
    “ Got your message, cousin.
Its' a go. We can leave tomorrow afternoon.”
    “ Good.”
    “ What changed your
mind?”
    “ Not what, who.”
    “ Awe the old girl came in
and started to go after you again.”
    “ Never mind that. I'll be
ready. I've cleared my calendar. If this island is as pretty as you
say it is, it's what I need.”
    “ Trust me. Martinique is
what the doctor ordered.”
    ***
    " Ma Petite , he's asleep. Go to bed,"
her mother said.
    Zuri sat at her father's side watching him
breathe. "Will you sleep in here with him?"
    "No. Not yet. He needs rest. I'll be in the
room next door."
    "Someone needs to be in here to make sure
he's...okay." She adjusted his sheet, and tucked him in. Her
mother's soft chuckle made her