Kes strode toward his building, a bounce in his step and an indefensible lightness in his heart.

The daylong stay with his family had been a bumpy ride, but he’d kept his end of the bargain and told his folks he loved them. They didn’t freak out—even if they did inquire about his health.

He told them he was fine. Better than ever.

The hiccup occurred when part of the family reassembled for dinner, which was served inside the caravan because of the rain. The party consisted of his parents, sister, eldest nephew, and himself. Nouna had declared she’d made enough of an effort and stayed in bed. His brother and brother-in-law were working late, harvesting grapes for a local wine producer.

A young woman who looked vaguely familiar stopped by to borrow some table salt. She lingered to chat with Rosanna and Mama, sounding like she knew them well.

Kes smiled politely.

“I’m Clara,” she said, pausing to let him process the information. “Don’t you recognize me?”

He furrowed his brow. This woman couldn’t be Clara. No way. Clara was Alberto and Maria’s girl—a scruffy, gangly kid with mussed hair who played elastics with her friends all day long. The woman before him must have been eighteen. She had expertly made-up green eyes, a silky black mane that cascaded down her back in tame waves, and soft curves.

Had he been an objective onlooker, he would have found her gorgeous.

But he wasn’t. Clara’s beauty made him think of Amanda—a gadji Snow Queen to this Gypsy Venus. It reminded him of how that Snow Queen—his Snow Queen—made him feel. Of how just looking at her made his heart pound with giddy joy, and his cock harden. And when she shared one of her dry, misanthropic observations, he found them funnier than Garfield’s best punchlines.

Amanda enthralled him in a way that no other woman ever had.

Or ever would.

He smiled. “You’ve changed, Clara.”

“I hope it’s a compliment.” She searched his eyes. “Do you like what you see?”

“You’ve become a beautiful young woman.”

“I’m glad to hear you say that . . . because you’re the most handsome man in the whole world.” Clara blushed furiously and ran away.

“What was that about?” he asked when she was out of earshot.

“No idea.” Tata suddenly became fascinated by something on his plate.

“Oh come on, Django, you’ve got to help me here.” Mama put her fork down and gave Kes a grave look. “As you said yourself, son, Clara has blossomed into a real beauty.”

“Good for her.” Kes nodded.

“Good for you, too”—Mama arched an eyebrow—“because she likes you.”

Kes looked down at his plate and discovered a morsel just as fascinating as the one his father was inspecting.

“We’ve talked with Alberto and Maria,” Levna plowed on. “Luckily for you, they are prepared to overlook your connections and even let Clara live among the gadje, following you wherever your . . . business takes you.”

“Once the two of you are married, of course,” Django said, finally looking up.

Oh God.

If he told them bluntly there was no way he was marrying Clara, the family dinner would turn into yet another shouting match that would end with him getting banished or vowing never to return.

Either of which sucked.

“I already have a girlfriend,” he said.

“Who? That washed-out gadji you brought here for Lysandro’s christening?” Levna looked like she would’ve spat on the floor had she been less genteel.

“Mama, her name is Amanda,” Kes said.

“As if I cared.” Levna shrugged. “What matters is that Clara is better in every way. She’s younger, prettier, sweeter. An eighteen-year-old Gypsy rose ready to be picked.”

Levna peered at him.

He stared back, poker-faced.

“In case you didn’t catch my drift,” she said, “Clara is a virgin, as our tradition requires. Never had as much as a petit ami. Everyone in the clan can testify to that. Maria told me the girl has been obsessed with you for years.”

Django stroked his beard. “She’d make you a perfect wife, son.”

If only Marco had been around to crack a joke and defuse the tension! Even if his cousin weren’t a fan of Amanda, he wouldn’t let Kes down. He never did.

But Marco had taken off at dawn, and no one had seen him since. He didn’t pick up his phone or call back.

That left Kes with only one possible ally.

He turned to his sister. “Rosanna? Feel like saying something? You’re always complaining that Gitane girls are married off too young and miss out on opportunities. Clara is only eighteen.”

“I do believe our girls deserve more education and choices.” Rosanna avoided his eyes—a bad sign. “But the thing is, you are Clara’s choice. She told me her dream is to go away with you.”

Kes pressed his mouth into a hard line and weighed every word before speaking. “I’m sorry to break the family consensus, but marrying Clara isn’t my dream. And she isn’t my choice.”

Levna took her head in her hands.

“Little pral.” Rosanna touched his arm. “You’re blinded by your attraction for that woman, but if you could reason with clarity, you’d see that we’re right. We want the best for you.”

He smirked. “And Clara is the best for me?”

“Besides all the qualities Mama just mentioned, Clara is a Gitane.” Rosanna squeezed his arm as if trying to convey something beyond her words.

He scowled but said nothing.

“She shares your heritage, your culture. Kes, your infatuation with Amanda will pass, and there’ll be nothing left between you.” She sighed. “There’s a good reason why birds of a feather flock together.”

“Birds of a feather,” he said with a smirk, “also bore each other to an early grave.”

Django smacked his fist on the table. “Son, this is your last chance to make everything right. I suggest you give it very serious consideration.”

Kes nodded and stood. With a heavy sigh, he picked up his disposable utensils and threw them into the trash.

“Tata, Mama.” He hoped he sounded respectful but firm. “I know you want the best for me. Clara is great, but—”

His sister covered his mouth with her hand. “Mouk! Shut up before you say something you can’t take back.”

He glared at her.

“Go back to Paris and think about it like Tata said.” Rosanna widened her eyes at him and nudged him toward the door. “Think well.”

He mumbled a good-bye and walked out into the rain.

“We love you, too, Kes!” Rosanna shouted after him.

When he stepped into his apartment, Marco was sprawled on his couch, snoozing. Kes smiled. So, that’s what his cousin had been up to today—taking advantage of his spare keys. He surveyed the room for evidence of a party or female presence, but didn’t detect any. Well, he’d ask Marco in a few minutes, but first he needed to take a shower and change into fresh clothes.

Twenty minutes later, Kes grabbed two bottles of beer from the fridge and woke up Marco.

“What time is it?” Marco mumbled, rubbing his eyes.

“Eleven.” Kes handed him a bottle. “I have an appointment at midnight, so I won’t be able to keep you company.”

“You’re seeing Amanda?”

Kes nodded.

“You’re still stuck on her?”

“Superglued.” Kes gave him a wink. “In fact, I made some decisions on the train from Lyon.”

“I’m all ears.”

“I’m not going to Vegas. I’ll stay in Paris and . . . adjust my lifestyle.”

Marco frowned, confused. “What do you mean?”

“I’m going to settle down here for a while. A long while. Amanda loves this city.”

Marco put his hand against his mouth, a strange look in his eyes.

“I’ll learn a new trade where I can use my skills and don’t have to travel all the time.”

“Unbelievable.”

Kes shrugged. “She’s worth it.”

“You need a drink.” Marco stood and retrieved a bottle of cognac from the plastic bag on the floor. “We both do.”

Kes pointed at his bottle. “We are having a drink.”

“We need something stronger than beer.” Marco darted into the kitchen and returned with two glasses.

Kes studied him while he poured the cognac. “What’s going on?”

Marco handed Kes a glass. Something akin to pity flickered in his eyes.

“Spit it out.”

“I saw Amanda in a restaurant with another man earlier today,” Marco said in one breath.

“So what?” Kes shrugged. “Eating dinner with a person of the opposite sex isn’t a crime. It could’ve been work related—she’s been applying to lots of jobs and trying to network.”

“It wasn’t work related.” Marco swallowed. “It was a candlelit dinner, Kes. And they held hands.”

“You’re lying.”

“Really? Have you lived among the gadje so long you forgot that Gitans don’t lie to each other? I would never lie to you.”

Kes stared at him, trying not to show that his world was turning upside down.

“Are the two of you exclusive?” Marco asked.

“We haven’t put it into words, but that’s the assumption, yes.”

“Well, that’s your assumption. Amanda clearly assumes otherwise.”

Kes rubbed his forehead. “I know you won’t lie to me, but it just doesn’t add up. Amanda’s not a cheater. She would’ve told me if she was seeing someone else.”

“So you trust your lying gadji more than your cousin and best friend?”

Kes stared out the window.

“OK, pral, you know what? You don’t have to believe me. You can believe your eyes, though.”

With his peripheral vision, Kes watched Marco tap and scroll something on his phone.

When he was done, he placed it on the table in front of Kes. “Take a look.”

It was a snapshot of a man Kes had never seen before holding Amanda’s hand in a restaurant, just as Marco had told him. The photo had today’s date.

“Were you tailing her?” Kes asked after a long silence.

“Yes. I knew she was fishy, but I also knew you were blinded by your feelings. So I needed to get evidence.” He smiled smugly. “And I did.”

“Maybe he’s just a friend who needed comforting,” Kes said, grasping at straws.

Marco sighed. “From where I sat, I could make out most of their conversation. While they were holding hands, he asked if she’d go out with him.”

“What did she say?”

“That she’ll think about it.”

Kes swallowed hard.

She’ll think about it.

“Don’t you see what she’s doing, pral?” Marco shook his head. “I was so sure she was begging you to stay . . . Has she even asked you?”

Nope.

Marco’s expression changed from pity to disgust. “Why would she? Your gadji is lining up her next lover while you’re still around. That way, her bed won’t grow cold.”

“I think you should go now.”

Marco stood. “I’ll give you space. And remember—I’m on your side. I may have hurt you today, but I did it to save you from bigger pain down the road.”

“I know,” Kes said. “Thank you, pral.”