Dangerous to Know by TASHA ALEXANDER

to put on your motive.”
    Had I never before met Sebastian, I would have been taken in by the perfectly poignant look of remorse on his face. His eyes, half-closed and heavy-lidded, drooped. His lips pressed together. He wrung his hands. “Any amends I attempt to make would not be enough. Not even a decent beginning.”
    â€œYou’re right on that count,” Colin said.
    With a beautifully elegant and dramatic flair, Sebastian whisked a handkerchief out of his pocket and pressed it to his brow. “Motive may be irrelevant, but I assure you, Monsieur Monet, my heart, my soul, want nothing more than to see your work in the hands of those who appreciate it.”
    â€œThen perhaps you should change your line of work, Monsieur Capet,” Monet said. “Become an art dealer instead of a thief.”
    â€œAn excellent suggestion, in theory,” Sebastian said. “And I’ve taken the first step towards following your advice.”
    Colin coughed and I rolled my eyes.
    â€œYes. Well.” Sebastian waved us off with a flutter of his handkerchief.
    â€œI have a note from Mr. Markham, the gentleman who received the painting,” I said, handing a sealed letter to the artist, who opened it at once, read, and then laughed.
    â€œThe recipient of your so-called generosity is offering more than a fair price for the work,” Monet said. Sebastian opened his mouth to speak, but the artist stopped him. “No, monsieur. Do not debase yourself by trying to convince me you negotiated the deal. It’s obvious Kallista is behind this. I see her hand in it bright as the sun.”
    â€œAny admirer of Kallista’s sees her hand in all good things.” Sebastian stood and crossed the room to Monet. “Can you find it in yourself to forgive me?”
    Alice wrinkled her nose. “You, Monsieur Capet, want to reach a resolution with far too much ease.”
    â€œQuite right, my dear,” Monet said. “But I’m in a conciliatory sort of mood and inclined to accept his disingenuous apology. What man wouldn’t do the same in the face of such happiness? Alice, you see, has at last agreed to be my wife.”
    â€œChampagne!” Cécile cried. “There must be champagne at once!”
    â€œThis is the best sort of news,” Colin said. “When can we expect the wedding?”
    â€œWe were married three days ago,” Monet said. “I couldn’t risk giving her time to change her mind.” We all erupted, cheering and embracing them.
    â€œI could not be happier for you both, mes amis, ” Cécile said, kissing him on both cheeks.
    â€œMerci,” Monet said, moving close to Sebastian. “One more misstep, sir, and you will live to regret it. None of my paintings shall disappear from any location because of a scheme of yours.”
    â€œBien sûr,” Sebastian said. “I give you my word. If I could just—”
    â€œI think you should not push your luck,” I said.
    â€œSome clarification, if I may,” Sebastian continued. “I swear on whatever power, being, person, etcetera, means the most to you that I shall never again extract one of your works from its proper home.”
    â€œ Proper home as defined by me, not you.” Monet’s voice was stern, but not without a hint of humor.
    â€œAgreed,” Sebastian said. “But I cannot tell you that I shall curtail all my…industry.”
    â€œYou will not take any painting done by my fellow Impressionists.”
    Sebastian sighed. “Do you not want me to own anything pretty?”
    â€œYou might try buying as a manner of acquisition,” I said.
    â€œHow pedestrian,” Sebastian said. “Really, Kallista, you disappoint me.”
    Alice disappeared and then returned, carrying a tray laden with two bottles of champagne and six flutes. “Finish this negotiation, my darling husband, and let us turn our attention to