Lucius (Acquisition 4) - Page 45

“I’m okay.” I reach inside my jacket and pull out the now-ruined iPad, the knife jutting from it. “See?”

“Thank god.” She puts her palm to my cheek. “Lucius?”

“Yes?” I kiss her palm right as she doubles over and hurls the entire contents of her stomach onto the back floorboard.

24

Evie

I wake. I know something’s off. Like I’m in the wrong place. My eyes open, and I realize I’m in a strange bed without a stitch of clothing on my body.

Bolting upright, I snatch the blanket to my chest and try to get my bearings.

“You’re at—”

I scream and strike out with the palm of my hand.

“Ow, hey!” Lucius rolls onto his back and grabs his nose. “Holy shit.”

“Where am I?” I scoot to the edge of the bed and look around.

Stark lines, minimalist furniture, a fantastic view of the woods outside the window. “I’m at your place.”

“Why would you go for my nose?” He groans.

I take a breath and shake off the fear. I’m safe. A weird laugh bubbles out of me.

“You think it’s funny?”

“I think it’s funny that I’m in your angular tower of terror, but somehow I feel safe.”

He drops his hand, and I realize he’s shirtless. A large bruise spreads across his chest right over his heart, the tangled vine tattoos emanating out from the spot of my bullet’s impact. For a tiny second, I almost feel guilty. But then I remember Lucius definitely had it coming.

“What kind of idiot comes at someone who has a loaded gun pointed at their chest?” I blurt.

“First you attack my beautiful nose, and now you question my intelligence? Do you always wake up in this mood?” He tucks his hands behind his head, giving me a full view of his toned chest and abs.

I look away, and I swear to god I wish I could figure out how to stop myself from blushing. I can’t, so I try to switch gears before he notices. “And why am I naked?” I remember a few details of what happened in the car, but then it’s a blur. “What did you do to me?”

“Do you want the long or short version?” He reaches over and grabs my arm, gently pulling me back down onto the bed. “Just lie here. I’m not going to attack you until you ask nicely.”

I roll my eyes. “Long version. I want play by play of your depravity.”

He turns toward me and props himself on his elbow. I should be demanding my clothes, threatening him, running out of here, or calling for help. Instead, I’m staring up at him and his five o’clock shadow, wondering what it would feel like against my skin.

“Let’s see. First you threw up all over my favorite dress shoes.”

“I recall that.”

“Very rude of you.” He gives me a surly look, then continues, “And after that, you did some dry heaving. Gut wrenching, if I’m being honest. Hurt me to hear it.” He winces. “And after your stomach decided it was really and truly empty, you passed out.”

“That’s weird.” I shake my head, my movement stirring up the scent of his sheets. That piney-citrusy smell of his mixed with fabric softener. Inexplicably delightful, if I’m being honest. “I’m not the passing out sort. I mean, yes, I was frightened and probably in some sort of shock, but still …”

“Did anyone give you anything at the party? I was watching you most of the time and didn’t see anything like that.” He looks down at me with those light blue eyes, the ones that shouldn’t belong to a devil like him. But the part that makes me come undone is the worry in them. Worry for me.

“Wait. I had some champagne. Not much though. Beau gave it to me.” An image of him with blood pouring from his throat flashes in my mind.

“He must’ve drugged you. Something to make you more pliable? I don’t know.” He reaches across me and grabs his phone from the nightstand.

“What are you doing?”

“Calling our family doctor. I want him to check you.”

“I’m fine.” I put my hand on his.

“But we have no idea what he gave you.”

“Lucius.” I take his phone and return it to the nightstand. “I’m fine.” When I look back at him, his eyes have gone to where the sheet is draped across my breasts.

That one look seems to set my skin ablaze, sparks rippling and eddying to that one electric spot between my thighs.

I clear my throat. “So I was drugged. That makes sense. At least it made my foot stop hurting.” I wiggle my toes.

“I’m afraid that one’s on me. I cleaned up the wound again and gave you a few shots of Novocain every few hours while you slept. Made you comfortable.”

“You just have random Novocain on hand?”

He shrugs. “I had the doc swing by and deliver the little syringes. No big deal.”

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