It’s nine on a Saturday morning and Lily is still asleep, bless her sweet little heart. Me, I’m wide awake. It’s been a long night. The few short bouts of sleep I managed to catch were filled with weird dreams. In one of them I kissed Raphael who turned into Xavier who turned into a pixelated space invader.

Gah.

My first date with Xavier had been a total flop.

Before we said good-bye, he insisted on meeting Lily and that we take her to the Jardin du Luxembourg or Tuileries on Sunday.

I said this Sunday wouldn’t work.

Not that I had any plans. It just felt too soon. Or maybe it was the image of Xavier, me, and Lily strolling in the park together like a family. That just felt… wrong.

We should try that sometime—he’s totally right about it—but I guess I’m not ready yet.

Anyway, there’s no rush. I have other, more important matters to take care of.

The positive outcome of my sleepless night was that I made up my mind. Next time I call Màma and Pàpa, I’m going to tell them about Lily, consequences be damned.

Eva is right—I can’t put it off much longer. The excuse that I’m too busy to go to Estheim is old, seeing as I’ve been back in continental France over a month now. Last time we talked, Màma hinted she and Pàpa were planning a little Parisian vacation in October. My confession had better happen before that vacation.

It will happen before that vacation.

I rub my eyes and drag myself out of bed.

Someone knocks on the door.

Raphael.

Please, let it be him!

“A little early for a second courtesy visit,” I say as I open the door and stare at his sexy, clean-shaven face.

I hope my enthusiasm doesn’t show.

“Are you referring to the time of day or the time of year?”

“Both.”

He nods and steps inside. “With all the excitement from fixing your dishwasher, I forgot to get your number last time.”

“Why would you need my number?”

“So I could invite you and Lily to come with me on a little weekend trip.”

I blink.

“This weekend,” he says.

I blink again.

“It wasn’t planned,” he adds.

I fold my arms across my chest.

He screws up his face, eyebrows roof-shaped, sexy as hell. “Will you come?”

“No.”

“Please?”

“I have other plans.”

He unleashes his ultimate weapon—the sad-puppy look. “Can your other plans be postponed?”

“Why is it so important?”

“Because…” He hesitates. “I managed to get my closest friends and Sebastian and his wife to clear their schedules.”

I shake my head in disbelief. “Why? And… where to?”

“So they can meet you… on a Greek island south of Crete.”

“The one in the photos in your apartment?”

“Ninossos,” he says with a nod. “It’s even more beautiful in real life. I hope you’ll like it.”

I rub my forehead as if trying to prevent my thoughts from scattering all over the place. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Say yes.” He smiles. “I promise there’s no hidden agenda, no expectations, no strings.” He gives me a wink. “I’m a conscientious objector to strings, as you know.”

I do.

God, this is tempting.

“All I want is for you to have a bit of fun,” he says.

“Why do you care?”

“Honestly?” He shrugs. “No idea.”

“OK,” I say, hardly believing my own words. “Why not? Lily and I will tag along.”

He plants a kiss on my forehead, then turns around, and heads to the door. “I’ll pick you up Saturday at ten thirty.”

And then he’s gone.

* * *

He was right—Ninossos is even more gorgeous in reality than in those beautiful prints on the walls of his penthouse.

I take in a deep breath of air that smells of seawater and several other delicious things I can’t identify and put Lily back in her stroller. She was agitated earlier, so I left Raphael and his friends to finish their lunch on the patio of his villa and took Lily for a calming walk. I had to promise him we’d stay in the vicinity of the house and be back in fifteen minutes.

You’d think the island was swarming with wild beasts.

The wildest creature we’ve met so far was a sea gull.

The flight to Ninossos was quick and easy, Lily’s incessant crying notwithstanding.

“This is Mia and Lily” was how Raphael had introduced us to everyone before we boarded the jet. No other qualifier or explanation—just “Mia and Lily.” The responses to that laconic presentation ranged from Sebastian’s nod to Diane’s bear hug. When she let go of me, she asked if I’d let her hold Lily, and as she gently took her from me, I realized she was pregnant.

Between those two extremes were the firm handshake from Raphael’s buddy Cedric and the contactless cheek kiss from his bestie, Genevieve.

Yes, that Genevieve.

Finally, I had the honor of meeting Raphael’s oldest friend, who turned out to be a refined creature in her late twenties. Clearly, his equal in both status and money. Also, probably the only woman in his life he’s been faithful to, if not in flesh then in spirit.

She looked vaguely familiar. Maybe I’d seen her before in Raphael’s bar without knowing who she was.

Despite their different greetings, all four guests had one reaction in common. They stared at Lily longer and with more intensity than a regular person would look at a baby. The expression on their faces was that of a person trying to solve a puzzle. I knew exactly what that puzzle was.

Is this baby Raphael’s?

As I push the stroller, I wonder what conclusion each of them had arrived at.

By the time I’m back at the patio, Lily is fast asleep.

I set the stroller in the shade and return to my place around the table. The catering service Raphael has hired so we could “just chill” brings out coffee and dessert.

He apologizes to Genevieve, with whom he was chatting, and comes to sit next to me.

She glances at me with so much hatred it feels like a sharp punch to my face. I gasp, incredulous, and take a second look at her. Genevieve lifts her teacup to her lips without the slightest hint of emotion on her serene face.

I must have imagined it.

“I saw Noah yesterday,” Genevieve says.

“Where?” Sebastian and Raphael ask in unison.

“At the Tintin exhibit in Grand Palais. A friend of mine dragged me there.” She picks up a canelé and bites off half of the miniature pastry. “Mmm.”

“Noah’s always been a huge fan of Tintin,” Raphael says with a smile.

Sebastian’s gaze is hard when he turns to Genevieve. “Did you talk to him?”

“First, I wasn’t sure it was him,” she says. “Last time I saw him, he was a child. But I thought I’d try my luck, so I asked him if he was Noah d’Arcy.”

Raphael’s expression is now as grave as Sebastian’s. “And?”

“He said, ‘Noah Masson, why?’.”

“He uses Maman’s maiden name these days,” Raphael says.

Genevieve nods. “I knew that, so I introduced myself.”

She puts the second half of her canelé in her mouth and chews slowly.

“Come on, Vivie,” Raphael urges. “Don’t keep us hanging.”

“Sorry.” She smiles. “I told Noah his brothers were hoping he’d return their calls. He said he was hoping you’d gotten the message by now. And then he said good-bye.”

Raphael and Sebastian exchange a look full of frustration and disappointment.

“Fine,” Sebastian says, wiping his mouth. “I’ll stop reaching out. He can continue living like a bum, renting a shitty rathole in a shitty neighborhood while his trust fund is collecting dust and his castle in Burgundy is falling into disrepair. Not my problem.”

Raphael lets out a sigh.

“My theory is he doesn’t want any part of the d’Arcy fortune for ideological reasons,” Genevieve says. “Maybe he’s become a left-wing radical like Diane—except he actually lives by his principles.”

Ouch.

I feel bad for Diane, whom I like. I’ve been trying to like Genevieve, too, despite the pangs of unwarranted jealousy, but that’s finished now.

Diane stares at her, poker-faced.

“My wife has never been a radical,” Sebastian says, giving Genevieve a smoldering look. “And trust me, she does live by her principles.”

“I have another theory,” Cedric says. “Noah’s behavior isn’t political. It’s religious. He’s joined a sect which believes the meek shall inherit the earth.”

“I believe the mice shall inherit the earth,” Raphael says. “Or rather, the rats.”

Everyone smiles, looking relieved. The conversation had been turning way too serious for a weekend lunch.

We chat for another half hour about this and that, until all the canelés and macarons are gone and the coffee pots are empty.

Right on cue, the caterers return to clear the table.

One of them is a pretty young woman whose skirt is much shorter and tighter than her colleague’s. Her shirt is unbuttoned far enough to show the front clasp of her bra. She plants herself across from Raphael and sets her tray on the table. As she loads it with empty cups and plates, she bends down so that her breasts are practically in his face.

I steal a glance at him, fully expecting him to be enjoying the view.

But he isn’t even looking in that direction. He’s turned toward Cedric on his left, talking investments and financial markets.

This is weird.

The Raphael I used to know wouldn’t necessarily flirt with every woman who hit on him, but he would definitely acknowledge her.

There’s one possible explanation for this. Something is wrong with him. So wrong, it’s changed his personality.

Maybe he’s dying.

Raphael shifts closer to me, and I feel his hand on my knee.

OK, he isn’t dying.

Without interrupting his conversation with Cedric, he slips his hand under the hem of my skirt and trails it up my inner thigh, fingers splayed. As he progresses, hidden from sight by the tablecloth, the hairs on my body stand on end and my pulse quickens. By the time he reaches the edge of my panties and cups me, I’m soaked.

This is my undoing, and I know he knows it.

When I agreed to “tag along,” I suspected how today might end. How Raphael might want it to end. With the two of us in bed together.

The shameful truth is I want it, too.

Worse, I need it.

So badly I wonder how I’m going to make it through the afternoon.

OK. Fine. Bring it on.

At least I’m sure of one thing—there’s no way I’m relapsing into a dead-end affair with Raphael. I won’t let it happen—for Lily’s sake, if not for mine.

But selfish as it may be, I can’t… I won’t deny myself a night with the man I still love.

The man I never stopped loving.

A whole night to kiss and be kissed. To feel him enter me, move inside me. My stomach clenches just thinking about it. My body is so hungry for him it’s hard to sit still and not push against his hand.

Patience, Mia. Tonight.

He’ll make love to me tonight. I’ll kiss him, touch him everywhere, bite him, and lick him to my heart’s content. After I come, I’ll run my hand through his thick, wavy hair the way I used to do. And then I’ll fall asleep against his naked body.

The best part?

Sunday morning, I’ll wake up in his arms.

On this gorgeous island.

Outside of time.