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“It’s something I want to focus on with my designs—making everyone feel they are accepted just as they are,” Jackson says fiercely. “An honorable goal,” he agrees just as fiercely. “But make no mistake, what Jacqueline prefers on the runway and what I prefer in my bed are not one and the same, Princesse.” She can see the fire in his eyes, the possessive appreciation, and it settles some of the concern churning deep in her gut. His words reassure her, and she was able to relax a bit, though it takes a while before she was comfortable enough to enjoy the wine, cheese, and meat again. But Jackson doesn’t seem to notice one way or the other, playing tour guide and telling her about the history of

the gardens. Though Monica was not sure his stories are in any of the gardens’ literature. “Once, I must have been about eight, would guess . . . I was here on a school trip and we were allowed to rent the sailboats. I chose one in red and green and readied it for entry. There was another child