We arrive at Le Château d’Avignon just after eleven in the morning. The three of us are sharing a two-bedroom suite. Viviana goes straight for the bedroom, slamming the door. The bellhop glances nervously between Leo and I before removing our luggage from the cart. Shaking his head at her outburst, Leo tips the guy while I stand there awkwardly in the middle of the room.

Still angry from yesterday, Viviana is not so subtly letting him know how she feels about being in such close proximity with him for the entire weekend.

I don’t see how she can be mad at the moment though. This suite is like something out of a travel brochure. No—scratch that. It’s like something out of a dream. The opulent elegance of the furniture and walls are like stepping back in time. “Whoa,” I breathe out, noticing the view outside the living room window. A stretch of lush gardens. A pond covered in water lilies. A stone terrace with an outdoor fireplace. And the colors…my gosh, the colors. Unlike London, the south of France is vibrant and alive with color. Leafy, deep greens. Stunning blues. Warm terracotta.

After the bellhop is gone, Leo crosses the room to stand next to me at the window. He doesn’t seem as in awe of the beauty as I am. “How long do your fights usually last?” I say, wondering if that’s the reason for his lack of enthusiasm.

“Another day or two, and she’ll come around. One good thing about Vivvy is she doesn’t hold grudges.”

He stares out into the scenery, his expression difficult to read. When I look at Leo, I can’t help but remember there should be a living replica of him. Another tall, handsome, dark-eyed Serra boy should be here with us. Losing a sibling is one thing, but I can’t imagine what it’s like to lose a twin.

“What were they like?” I ask, treading carefully. Since he’s the oldest among us, he would have the best memory.

“Who?” He glances over at me, and I can tell he already knows who I’m asking about. “Vivvy hasn’t told you about them?”

“I’m sure she would, but I haven’t asked her. Either way, I’d still like to hear it from you.”

Leo leans against the windowsill and takes a deep breath. He’s silent for a long moment, as if he’s trying to think of the right words. Then he finally speaks, his voice sounding as far away as his memories. “You remind me of our mum. She was graceful, reserved, the epitome of high class. When she walked into the room, you could feel her presence. She had a quiet elegance about her. But when she was with just us kids, she’d let loose. Be silly. I have a memory all of us playing together in our old house in New York. We were in your nursery, chasing you around. Your adorable little giggle. She lived to hear that giggle, eating it up like it was pure magic.”

I smile, wishing I could remember her. He continues speaking, and I lean against the window beside him, quietly listening.

“Vivvy is like Dad. Both of them are stubborn, short-tempered, with one-track minds. Once an idea takes hold, they won’t let it go until they see it through. But deep down, they’re softies. Dad loves us so much—maybe too much. He has a hard time showing it, but he does. Even though he hasn’t been part of your life, he’s still followed it. Losing Mom and Junior just about killed him. We’re all he has left, and he’s hell-bent on doing whatever’s necessary to keep us that way.”

“And Junior?” I ask, curious. “What about him?”

Leo stares ahead, pensive. “He was always laughing, making jokes, finding new adventures. People loved being around him. For someone who enjoyed life so much, it doesn’t seem fair that his was the one taken.”

I hear the words Leo is leaving unsaid. Why Junior and not him? The question has probably haunted him for years. “Is it ever fair?” I say, preferring to think death has no favorites.

“People talk about karma all the time,” he says, his tone bitter. “But I’ve yet to see it.”

I didn’t mean to let this conversation go in this direction. I try veering it back toward a lighter place. “Thank you for telling me about them, Leo. Means a lot to me.”

He nods, looking over at me. “Anytime.”

My phone buzzes inside the pocket of my jeans. A text from Casper. I feel the corners of my mouth curve into a smile as I read his message.

Come downstairs. Bring a bathing suit.

The phone buzzes again.

Tell your guard dog you’re going to the spa. Make it sound convincing because we’ll be gone a while.

Shoving the phone back into my pocket, I twist the charms on my bracelet, wondering if this is a good idea. Leo and I just made it into possible bonding territory. I also promised him I wouldn’t worry him again. But would it really worry him if he knew I was with Casper? Most likely, it would just piss him off, but he’d know I was safe.

I clear my throat, hoping for the best. “Ah, that’s my appointment reminder. Manicure, pedicure, massage, hair—the works. I want to look my best tonight since it’s my first time meeting the family.”

Leo nods, busy looking at something on his cell phone. “Girly shit, gotcha. Have fun.”

He bought it? Just like that? Why am I questioning this?

I bolt for the door before he realizes I’m lying. Practically running down the stairs—because the building is ancient and the renovators didn’t add elevators—I feel all shaky, wondering if it’s out of excitement or guilt. I didn’t bring anything except for my purse in my hurry to get out of there. Do I even look okay? I duck inside the lobby washroom to freshen up, rummaging through my purse for my brush and makeup.

A few minutes later, my hair is brushed, and I’ve got on a fresh coat of lip gloss. As soon as I step outside, a gust of wind whips my hair everywhere. Mother Nature laughing at me, obviously.

Since the château is perched up on a hill, I’m able to spot Casper down in the circular driveway, standing outside of a parked silver convertible Audi. He’s leaning against the driver’s door, arms crossed over his chest, a pair of dark glasses shading his eyes. Pausing there on the step, I suck in my breath at the sight of him. He’s effortlessly cool, like a modern-day James Dean in his crisp white tee, his hair slicked back, his arms loosely crossed over his chest as he waits for me. This is what trouble looks like, I’m sure of it.

He catches sight of me, leveling me with a devastating grin. My insides go haywire. Casper North, you’re going to be the death of me.

As I’m walking toward him, he says in that rough voice of his, “Ready for some fun, baby girl?”

I’m ready for anything with him.

“What did you have in mind? I didn’t bring a swim suit, by the way.”

Leading me around the car, his hand finds the small of my back as he opens the passenger door. “That’s okay. You can wear your underwear…or nothing at all.” He winks as he says the last part.

“Yeah, I won’t be doing that.”

He shuts the door behind me. “C’mon. I wouldn’t mind seeing what you have under all those clothes.” The way he says all those clothes makes it sound like I’m wearing hundreds of layers when really, it’s just my jeans, a camisole, and a long gray cardigan rolled up at the sleeves. I peek underneath the top hem of my cami because I don’t actually remember what I put on today.

Dammit.

Black lace demi. Matching cheekies. It’s like I dressed specifically for him. “Sports bra and granny panties,” I lie coolly.

He frowns. “You’re ruining my fantasy.”

“Sorry.” I slide my seatbelt into its lock. “Are you staying here at the château?”

Casper gets in on his side and starts up the engine. “Yep. Checked in about an hour ago. I think the majority of the wedding guests are here.”

Huh. I didn’t notice.

We checked in at the crack of dawn, the lobby empty at the time, and when I left just now, I was in too much of a rush to pay attention to anyone else.

My stomach twists in knots.

More family members. Possibly my father, too. Uncle Hugo said Dad wanted to meet me here, in person. Why am I suddenly so nervous? This whole time, I’ve felt calm about it. But now that it’s D-day, I feel sick to my stomach.

“Where’d you get the car?” I ask Casper, trying to take my mind off the wedding. And also, because I’m curious. It looks too nice to be a rental.

“Borrowed it.”

Raising a brow, I look over at him, skeptical. “You borrowed it?”

He shrugs, pulling the car onto to the road and away from the château. “I know people.”

“In the south of France?”

“What? You don’t think I know people in the south of France? I know people everywhere.”

I stare him down for a long moment. “You don’t want to tell me. Fine. Can you at least tell me where we’re going?”

“Nope.” He grins, showing off his dimples. “It’s a surprise.”

I can’t help but smile. It doesn’t really matter where we’re going anyway. The tense atmosphere surrounding my feuding brother and sister is suffocating; I’m grateful to get away for a while. “I’m glad you came.”

“I said I would.”

“I know, but I’m still glad.”

With one hand on the wheel, he drapes the other around me, resting it against the back of my seat. This is starting to feel…intimate.

Casper kills that feeling pretty quickly. “That’s because you don’t know what I have planned yet.”

“Oh, God,” I groan, shuddering. “fyi, I consider this a vacation from all training-related activities.”

“What? You don’t like my method of instruction?”

I roll my eyes, and he laughs.

“No training, I promise. Today is going to be fun.”

“Oh, yeah? Any chance you might tell me what your definition of fun includes?”

He thinks for a long second, then nods. “It includes living fearlessly. I’m about to show you how it’s done.”

* * *

How it’s done apparently means getting lost five times on the way to wherever we’re going. Casper pushes me away as I try to look over his shoulder at his phone, his whole hand covering my face. “Stop peeking.”

“Just trying to help.”

“I’ve got it now. We have to cross that rickety-looking bridge up ahead, and it’s on the right.”

“You sure about that, Gatwick?”

He grins slyly. “I still maintain that I meant to book our flights to that airport.”

“Yeah, I didn’t buy that excuse the first time you used it.”

Even if we are lost, I can’t complain. The scenery is too breathtaking. Situated on the rocky hillside above us is a little village, La Roque-sur-Cèze, looking like something out of a fairytale, all cobblestone and vaulted passages in that old French Provencal style. I lean my face into the wind as we pass lavender fields and vineyards, feeling like Belle a la Beauty in the Beast, wanting to belt out the lyrics to that song she sings on the hilltop. Something about wanting adventure in the great, wide somewhere.

As we’re driving across the narrow bridge Casper mentioned, I sit up straighter. “Is that a river?”

He nods. “The Cèze. We’re here.”

He parks in a grassy area off the bank. The sound of water is all around. Casper slings a small backpack over his shoulder as we get out of the car. “Are we hiking?” I ask, still trying to figure out what he’s up to.

“Just a short walk.” He reaches for my hand, lacing his fingers through mine. Another intimate touch. I stare at our hands for a second, lost in how such a simple act can stir so many emotions inside of me. I keep wondering where this is going. Our conversation about not being on the same page comes back to mind. About me wanting more. And him being incapable of giving it. Are we both pretending that conversation never happened? I’m pretty sure I am.

“Come on,” he says, tugging me along in my dazed state.

“Swimming,” I say, spitting out the first thing that comes to mind. “We’re going swimming in the river, aren’t we? Hence, the reason for bathing suits.” I flinch, remembering I still don’t have one.

“Sort of,” he says, sounding amused. “Is the anticipation killing you that much?”

Yes. On so many levels. “I’m just curious.”

“You’ll find out in a second, so be patient. Oh, and close your eyes.”

When I don’t immediately close them, he steps behind me, wrapping his hands around the top half of my face. His clean, masculine scent surrounds me. I swallow, fighting the urge to lean into him. “This seems unnecessary. I’ll be surprised no matter what.”

“Walk,” he orders.

The ground is too rocky and jagged. And Casper’s presence is distracting. “I’m going to trip and bust my ass, I just know it.”

“I’ve got you. Just keep walking.”

The sound of water grows louder, roaring. People talk and laugh in the distance. My eyes are closed, but I sense an increase in light as we come to some type of clearing.

He guides me a little further, and then we stop. Casper removes his hands. “You can look now.”

I open my eyes.

We’re on the edge of a cliff. The literal edge of a cliff. Directly in front of me is a limestone rock mass where several waterfalls connect. Shimmering water cascades into the rushing river, the surface sparkling like millions of diamonds.

It takes me several long moments to find my voice again. “This is beautiful, Casper.”

“Yes, it is. But we’re not here to marvel. We’re here to experience that beauty.”

He guides me along the edge of the cliff. Down below, away from the waterfalls, people swim in the calmer waters. Families picnic along the grassy banks. I’m not sure how we’re supposed to get down there though.

“Look,” Casper says, pointing. There’s a group of young French boys, teenagers most likely, diving off the cliff, one by one. They yell and holler as they make the jump, their voices echoing throughout the canyon.

“They’re insane,” I say, shaking my head.

He lifts his sunglasses, revealing the wicked gleam in his eyes. “We’re insane.”

“No.” I shake my head again, finally understanding what he’s got planned. “No. No. No way. Never in a million years will you get me to do that.”

He tosses the backpack aside, then peels off his T-shirt, showing off the sculpted perfection that is his abs. I momentarily lose my train of thought, but as soon as he moves toward me, I freak out all over again.

“Casper, no.” I dig my heels into the ground, trying to keep him from pulling me.

“Are you scared?” He grins.

I tilt my head to the side. What an idiotic question. Of course, I’m scared!

“Good. You should be.”

The guy wants me to dive to my death. And for what reason? To teach me something about being brave? No, thank you. I try yanking my hand out of his, but he has a good grip. Panic starts to settle in.

“Why do you keep doing this?”

He stops walking. “Doing what?”

“Making me do things I’m afraid of.” I let out a shaky breath. We’re far out of anyone’s earshot, but I lower my voice anyway. “If the killer is determined to murder me, what does it matter if I’m afraid or not? It won’t save my life.”

Casper frowns, releasing my hand. “Mila, that’s not why I brought you here. I swear, this had nothing to do with any of that. I just thought we could do something fun.”

Something fun.

God, I feel pretty stupid. Here he is, trying to plan something exciting, and I’m being a big ol’ baby. “Sorry, Casper…lately, this stuff is always in the back of my mind.”

“Don’t apologize. I get it. And since you brought it up, you should know that if it ever came to that…” His voice trails off for a moment. “If it ever came to that, I wouldn’t want you to be afraid. If you’re not scared, it means he’s not getting anything out of it. It means you win, and he loses his own twisted little game.”

I nod, pressing my lips together. Staring into the river, I watch a teenage boy jump off the rocky ledge, curling his legs to his chest, screaming wha-hoo! He sounds so excited, so carefree. I’m a little jealous.

Casper’s voice breaks into my thoughts. “We don’t have to do this. It was a dumb idea anyway.”

The boy comes up for air, shouting to his friends in French, but I don’t need a translator to hear the elation in his voice. He’s telling them how awesome it was.

Looking up at him, I arch a brow. “Reverse psychology?”

“Only if you want it to be.”

Wow. He’s good. Too good.

“I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but let’s jump.”

He slaps me on the back. “I knew you had it in you.”

“Full disclosure—if we die, I’m going to be pissed. I’ll never let you rest in peace.”

He waves that aside. “If we die, you’re not going to the same place as me, baby girl. I’m pretty sure they already have a special place in hell waiting with my name on it.”