Page 22 of Temptation and Tyranny

I pushed his discharge forms deeper into his file, not quite ready to broach that subject. “Of course. Let’s start with your warm-up routine.” I exited my office, leading him to the gym.

As Cooper moved through his exercises, I couldn’t help but notice how fluid his movements had become. The stiffness and pain that had marked our early sessions were gone, replaced by strength and grace. It was gratifying to see, even though it reminded me that our time together was drawing to a close.

“You know, Miss Prescott,” Cooper said as he completed a set of leg presses, “I have a question foryou.”

I helped him adjust the weight, careful to maintain a professional distance. “Oh? What would you like to know?”

“Well, for starters, your accent. It’s not quite French, is it? There’s something else there.”

I smiled, surprised he had noticed. “Good ear. It’s Italian, or at least partly. My mother was Italian.”

“Was?” he asked softly.

I nodded, feeling the familiar pang of loss. “She passed away when I was very young. I was raised by my grandparents in Italy.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Cooper said, his voice genuinely sympathetic. “And your father?”

I tensed slightly, memories of my last encounter with my father at the gala flashing through my mind. “He’s not in the picture,” I said curtly.

Cooper seemed to sense my discomfort and quickly changed the subject. “So you grew up in Italy? That must have been beautiful.”

Grateful for the shift, I smiled. “It was. My grandparents had a villa in Tuscany, surrounded by vineyards. I spent my summers running through the grape vines, helping with the harvest. It was...peaceful.”

As Cooper moved to the exercise bike, I found myself elaborating, painting a picture of my childhood for him. “The villa was this beautiful old stone building, probably hundreds of years old. It had these thick walls that kept it cool even in the hottest summers. My bedroom window looked out over the vineyards, and I used to wake up to the sound of birds singing in the olive groves.”

Cooper listened intently as he pedaled. “It soundsideal. Did you ever consider staying there? Taking over the vineyard?”

I shook my head, a hint of sadness creeping into my voice. “I thought about it. But after my grandparents passed away, it...it wasn’t the same. Plus, I couldn’t afford it. So, I started my studies in physical therapy.”

“So you came to Paris,” Cooper said.

“So I came to Paris,” I agreed. “It was a big change, but I fell in love with the city. It has its own kind of magic, you know?”

Cooper nodded, a faraway look in his eyes. “I know exactly what you mean.”

As he finished up on the bike, I couldn’t help but ask, “What about you, Mr. Moreau? Have you always lived in Paris?”

“Born and raised,” he said with a hint of pride. “Though my childhood was a bit different from yours. No vineyards or olive groves for me.”

“Oh?” I prompted, genuinely curious.

He moved to the weight machine, adjusting the settings as he spoke. “My mom died, so I had to grow up fast. Took on odd jobs, anything to help with the bills.”

I felt a surge of empathy. “That must have been difficult.”

He shrugged, though ancient hurt lingered in his expression. “It was what it was. It’s actually how I met Steele. We started working together, and well...the rest is history.”

“And now you’re friends,” I said, remembering their interaction at the gala. A thought occurred to me. “Speaking of partners, how did Steele meet Ashlynn? She’s American, isn’t she? It’s not every day you meet an American in Paris who ends up engaged to a Britisharistocrat.”

Cooper chuckled, a fond look crossing his face. “Ah, that’s quite a story. Let’s just say it involved a case of revenge, a stolen painting, and a chase across the globe.”

I raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “That sounds...exciting.”

“It was,” Cooper agreed, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “But it’s a long story, probably best saved for another time.”

But I knew that there wouldn’t be another time. Not after I discharged him.

As we finished the last of his exercises, I knew I couldn’t delay any longer. I pulled his file closer, my heart heavy with what I needed to say.

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