and she tensed at the niceness, awaiting the sting. When it didn’t come, she simply said, “Thank you.”
The door opened and they both turned. Lucian stepped in and scowled. “What the hell is this?”
“Nothing. We were just talking,” Slade said, his voice again cold and emotionless. She couldn’t
imagine living such an act.
Lucian came to her side and placed his arm protectively around her. He gazed at her as though
appraising her emotions.
“Everything’s fine. I was looking for the restroom and got lost,” she covered.
He glared at Slade then whispered to her, “It’s the fourth door down the hall. I’ll meet you there in a few minutes.”
She nodded and left, but paused at the door. Slade didn’t get a chance to explain. Lucian’s voice was
a low growl. “Stay the hell away from her.”
“Lucian—”
“I don’t give a fuck about your explanations. I don’t want you talking to her. End of story.” At the
sound of his retreating steps, she lifted her gown and quickly found her way to the restroom.
The rest of the evening passed in a surreal succession of events. Lucian never left her side and there
were no more signs of Slade. There was dancing, cake, and plenty of drinking, but she never had her
third. Lucian was overly attentive and seemed curious about what she and Slade said to each other.
She wasn’t sure if she should tell him.
Part of her felt sorry for the friendship lost, but the part of her that sometimes missed Parker and
knew they would never be friends like they once were, resented Slade Bishop for playing a part in that
and hoped he’d rot in misery.
Then there was a very insecure part of her she didn’t want to face. A part that worried if Lucian
knew, he might leave her. Perhaps he harbored similar feelings. She dismissed that worry quickly, but
insecurities lingered. The part of her that was never convinced she was good enough wasn’t entirely
convinced.
At the end of the evening she was tired. The ride home was peaceful. Her head rested on the soft
leather seat as the world buzzed by in a breezy wash of black sky. It wasn’t until they reached the
highway that she realized they weren’t heading back to the hotel. “Where are we going?”
“The estate.”
She frowned at his clipped tone. Trying to make light conversation, she asked, “Did you give Jamie
his gift?” They hadn’t opened presents, but there were stacks and stacks of beautifully wrapped
packages sitting around by the time the party was over.
“I left the keys in a gift box with the other presents.”
“Didn’t you want to see him open it?”
“No. I know he’ll like it.”
She would liked to have seen the car. No matter how he explained it, she couldn’t imagine it. “Oh.”
He didn’t seem to be in the mood for conversation. She scooted closer and he gently rested his hand
on her knee in between shifting gears. When they arrived at the estate, she was ready to pass out. Her
hair smelled like summer wind and her cheeks were slightly chilled.
Lucian opened her door and escorted her to the front of the house. Lucy didn’t greet them, which
was odd, but she assumed that was because it was nearly two in the morning.
Once inside, she slipped off her shoes. They dangled from her fingers as they made a silent stroll up
the grand staircase. In the master bedroom, they quietly slid out of their clothes. Lucian helped her
from her gown and she shivered as he hung it in the closet.
He emerged from the walk-in and tossed a satin bag on the bed. He was already in his silk sleeping
pants. His expression was unreadable. She wished he’d say something.
When he spoke, his words did nothing to relieve the awkwardness that accompanied them since
leaving the party. “On your belly.”
She blinked and eyed the satin bag.
“Do I need to repeat myself?”
There was a bite to his words and she frowned. “No,” she whispered and climbed on the bed.
The thick down comforter was cool beneath her weight. Her nipples tightened as she lowered
herself. Her arms lifted to rest above her head in the plush pillows. The soft whisper of Lucian
stripping away his pants came just before the bed dipped under his weight.
Gentle lips pressed into her spine and kissed a trail down to the backs of her thighs. Her body
reacted, but her mind detached. Why wasn’t he speaking to her? The little satin satchel disappeared,
and there was a snap followed by cool liquid being drizzled over her creases.
His finger massaged the oil over her back entrance and something inside of her panicked. Not
because he intended to take her this way, but because he’d done little to acknowledge it was she he
was taking. As he hoisted her hips off the bed and his thighs pressed into hers, her mind began to play tricks on her.
Was this because he saw Slade and this was what seeing him made Lucian crave? Was he being