“I want to talk to you about our arrangement. We can talk at dinner or after you rest. I’ll leave it up to you.”
She frowned. The term “arrangement” didn’t sit right with her, not after she’d come to an
understanding with her heart. “What is it you want to discuss?”
He shook his head. “Not now. Relax for a while. It’ll keep.”
“You can’t do that. You can’t say something like that then expect me to relax. And why are you
suddenly calling it ‘our arrangement’?”
His thick lashes blinked at her in confusion. “I meant our living arrangement. And it isn’t anything
bad, we just need to get a few things clear.” He stood and her body refused to go after him, too
comfortable in the heat of the silky water.
“I’ll order dinner in a half hour so you have time to unwind and clear your head.”
Yeah, like that was going to happen now.
He kissed her hair and left the room. Evelyn soaked for what she assumed was fifteen minutes, then
climbed out of the tub and did a quick rinse and scrub in the shower.
On Lucian’s bed she found a white dress shirt laid out for her and slipped it over her shoulders,
buttoning it down to her thighs. The scent of dinner wafted through the hall, and her hunger announced
itself as she settled into the chair across from him.
He smiled. “Feel better?”
“Yes.” She lifted the cover off her dish and found a succulent slice of beef cradled in a nest of fresh greens. Lucian nodded at her, quietly prompting her to eat.
After several bites, he said, “There’s a party at Antoinette’s condo this weekend. It’s for Jamie. It’s his birthday. I’d like you to go with me.”
“Sure.” She nibbled on a sprig of asparagus. “I guess he and Toni are really an item now, if she’s
throwing him parties at her home.”
He grumbled something under his breath, telling her he still didn’t approve of the match. “Shamus
doesn’t know about it. It’s a surprise.”
“Oh. Will he mind?”
He cocked his head and lifted a shoulder. “We’ll have to wait and see.”
“Are you going to get him a gift?”
“I ordered his gift this morning.”
No time like the present, she thought. “What did you get him?”
“A Spider.”
“You got him a bug?”
He laughed. “No. I bought him a McLaren Spider. It’s a high-performance sports car he was
drooling over at a trade show we caught last time we were in California on business.”
Wine went down the wrong pipe and she choked. “You bought him a car?”
His lips twisted. “To call this a car is an insult. It’s a quarter-of-a-million-dollar machine that can travel up to two hundred and four miles per hour. It’s built for racing so the safety features are
extraordinary, yet it’s luxurious as well.”
Her jaw unhinged as she stared at him. She’d never be able to conceive that type of money. The fact
that Lucian had it freaked her out. Sure, he lived in the lap of luxury and invited her to many fancy
places, but good grief! She couldn’t justify buying nongeneric cheese.
When she continued to gawk, he placed his fork on the gold filigree rim of his dish and asked,
“What?”
“You bought him a quarter-of-a-million-dollar car! What do you mean, what?”
He shrugged. “Shamus is a good friend.”
She scoffed. “I can’t even comprehend why such a thing costs so much. And who in their right mind
wants to go that fast? Where do you even go to drive that fast?”
“The Autobahn.”
“What’s that?”
“A federal expressway in Germany with no speed limit.”
“Are you trying to kill him so he stops dating your sister?”
He frowned and she winced, regretting her words. He wouldn’t find that joke funny, not after losing
his ex-lover in a motorcycle accident. “No. I thought he’d like it, but now you have me second-
guessing my gift.”
She shook her head. Who spent that kind of money on gifts? “What did you buy your sisters for
their last birthdays?”
He tilted his head as he thought about his answer. “Well, I gave Toni her condo, and Isadora—she’s
a little more difficult to please—I gave a chateau in Italy. She visits there each August.”
Her skin felt heavy on her face. There was no precedent set to react to such an outlay of money.
“Don’t ever spend that kind of money on me.”
He pursed his lips and said, “Are you finished eating?”
Yes, she couldn’t stomach another bite. “Yes.”
“Come sit with me. We need to talk.”
Her stomach twisted. Each step toward the sofa was heavy with trepidation. Her body settled beside
him and she waited. Whatever he needed to say was going to be big. She could sense it.
He loosened his tie, the shadowy skin of his throat as tanned as the back of his hands. Once he
settled comfortably into the cushions, he announced, “This isn’t working for me.”
The blood drained from her face in a whoosh that left her dizzy. “What?” she croaked.
“Our situation, it isn’t enough for me. I want more.”