black mass, giving him a salt-and-pepper look at his temples. “Your hair is rather long at the
moment.”
“I’m getting too old for longer hair. Makes me look like I’m clinging to my faded youth.”
She laughed and shoved him. “Shut up. You are not old.”
“Older than you.” His lips tickled the soft skin behind her ear and her toes curled.
“I like that you’re older.”
“You do?”
“Yes. I don’t see you as old, though. You’re . . . distinguished. I see your age as credibility. You
deal with many people in business who are older than you. I think if you were my age you wouldn’t be
taken as seriously. People my age don’t have the success you’ve accumulated.”
“Ah, but I was worth millions in my early twenties.”
“It’s not the same. That was your family’s legacy. This,” she waved her hand outward, “the hotel
and everything you’ve created, that was fueled by what’s in here.” Her hand rested over his bare chest.
“Not what was given to you.”
His lips curled in a soft smile, and his thick lashes lowered slightly. His voice became husky. “What
you just said, the way you put that, it makes me feel good. It’s nice to hear someone give credit to the man behind the name for a change.”
She curled into him and nestled her nose against the stubble covering his throat. “You deserve it.
You work very hard.”
“I’ll accept some of the credit, but not all. My family has contributed generations of visionaries to
my success. Their success gave me the means to make my own.”
Her fingers brushed over his hair and tucked it behind his ear. “Just don’t forget to give credit to
yourself from time to time.”
“Do you see how it works?” he whispered, dragging his fingers over her hip. “They gave me the
means and I had the ambition to do great things with those means. You’re ambitious too, Evelyn. I
like giving you the means to become something great. I believe you will someday be my wisest
investment.”
Her breath caught. He hadn’t said it, but for the first time her mind slipped away from her, as
though his thoughts snuck into her head and hijacked her own. She saw a startling vision of herself
standing on the lush green grass at the estate, just in front of his mother’s lilacs. Riots of purple
danced behind her in the perfumed breeze as she called for Lucian.
But Lucian wasn’t who came to her in that vision. No, it was a small boy with startling dark hair
and crystal blue eyes, much like her own. The little boy ran to her and threw his arms around her
waist, pressing his face to her abdomen, which was heavy and swollen under her clothes.
“Evelyn? You all right?”
“What?” The image vanished.
“Your cheeks got all flushed and you smiled in a way I never saw before.”
“I . . . I was just thinking.”
He smirked and pressed his lips to hers. Keeping them there, he whispered, “I like seeing you smile.
You do it much more than you used to.”
They wound up rolling around in bed, sharing soft whispers and gentle, teasing caresses that
eventually led to more, until it was time for her to rush out the door to see Jason. She hadn’t had time to shower, and through her entire lesson she found the scent of Lucian clinging to her skin incredibly
distracting.
When she returned to the penthouse, Lucian was gone. She took a long shower, and as she was
drying off there was a text from him on her phone.
Salon at 1:00. See you there. Love you.
She smiled once she carefully read the text. She sounded out the word bossy until auto correct got it.
Yes, bossy pants. Love you too.
When she arrived at the salon, she was immediately greeted with smiles and ushered to the back.
The staff was wonderful. They always made her feel like royalty, which was so far beyond her wildest
fantasies, she wondered if such treatment would ever stop feeling surreal.
Her hair was twirled into hundreds of tightly coiled curls and plastered around her face, which had
been made up in a way that transformed her. The makeup artist had somehow made her lips into sharp
peaks of red and her eyes seemed wider, accented with long lashes beneath narrow, groomed brows.
She looked nothing like she normally did when done up, but didn’t question their expertise.
Lucian appeared in the reflection of the gilded mirror. Her belly pinched with excitement at the
sight of him. His hair was damp and parted to perfection, long locks gone. She smiled. “Aren’t you
handsome.”
The hairstylist greeted him and stepped aside as Lucian kissed her cheek. “You look stunning.
Here.”
A small red velvet box, the size of a book, was placed in her lap. “What’s this?”
“For tonight. Open it.”
Her fingers flipped up the ornate bronze clasp, and the box opened with a creak. White netting and
ivory-sequined detail filled the faded velvet. It had a scent of time, a little musty with the trace of oiled perfume. The scent reminded her of an empty church. The fabric pulled like a delicate web as