Sylvie stood in the formal parlor and looked up at the big painting over the mantel. She’d seen it many times. The Darois family held a yearly holiday party for their friends, and she’d gone for as long as she could remember. The painting was of Ross and Cricket and a teenaged Rene, who was in a suit even back then.

It was his armor. The same way she felt powerful in a designer dress.

He’d needed armor when he was a kid. She stared up at him in a way she hadn’t before, looking for clues to who this man was. She thought she’d known him, but their shared experiences didn’t tell the whole tale of the man.

“That is my mother’s favorite picture of us,” a deep voice said. “It’s not mine. I greatly prefer this one.”

She turned and Rene walked up to one of the tables near the antique sofas and picked up a small frame, offering it to her. It wasn’t a professional shot. It was one of Rene and his father and mother on a beach, a half-made sandcastle between them. They were grinning up at the camera. She had to smile because she thought she knew who was on the other end of that camera. “Was this taken when Andre went with you to Destin?”

Rene stared down at the picture, a wistful look on his face. “Yes. That was my favorite spring break. We usually went to my grandmother’s, but that year Dad decided to rebel. My grandmother was a rigid woman. A vacation was more like a royal appointment.”

“Not a lot of fun, huh?”

“I had far more fun going out to your pop-pop’s.” A slow smile slid across his face. “I miss that old man.”

She did, too. “He always said you were a changeling because no rich boy could be as good as you at fishing. He was joking. He loved it when you would come out for the weekend. Andre hated fishing.”

“He didn’t have the patience for it. He liked to talk way too much,” Rene said with a sigh. He stepped back. “I liked the quiet. My father was a wonderful man, but he didn’t have time to take me fishing. Those early mornings with your grandfather were some of the best of my life.”

“I appreciated the fact that you went out to see my grandparents even after Dre left for college.” Her mom-mom still talked about how much she adored Rene.

“Why are you here, Sylvie?”

Her breath caught at the intimate tone in his voice. “I thought we should talk. You walked out before we could earlier.”

She put the picture down and turned to him. The room that had seemed big before now felt small, his strong body taking up so much space.