Coming Home (16 page)

Lucian kept his expression blank, but narrowed his eyes in a manner he knew could intimidate even the most powerful man. Gerhard got the unspoken message and withdrew his proffered hand.

“I imagine you’ve worked quite hard to obtain your position here at Clemons, Mr. Gerhard. Did I mention I know the Clemons family? They and the Patras family go back a long way. I’d hate to have to contact them beyond the courteous Christmas card.”

“I’m not sure I understand,” the manager said, his posture protective.

Lucian eyed the watermark on the ceiling with disinterest. “Evelyn Keats is someone very special to me. I understand that she’s new here and may require direction as she becomes oriented with her new duties, but do
not
make the mistake of taking advantage of her work ethic.” He met the other man’s gaze, which was magnified by his thick glasses. “I look out for her and will continue to do so. I want to make sure she’s being treated the same as the other employees. She may appear to be just another clerk here, but I assure you, she has an arsenal of attorneys at her disposal if, say, an employer were to overstep the bounds of proper management. Are we clear?”

The man swallowed noticeably. “Perfectly.”

“Very well. I’ll continue with my errand.” He turned and exited the office, sweeping up his basket and making his way to the registers.

***

Lucian approached the hostess’s station and was recognized immediately. “Mr. Patras, lovely to see you again. Your party is waiting right this way.”

He followed the young blonde to his usual table and recognized Jamie. Confusion knit his brows when he noted his friend’s scowl. The hostess left them as he settled across from Shamus. “What’s wrong?”

“You’ll see,” Jamie grumped and Lucian turned just as his sister slid into the seat beside Jamie.

His gaze widened for a split second. “Antoinette, I wasn’t expecting you.”

His sister made a great show of hauteur as she adjusted her napkin and raised her chin. “Lucian, always a pleasure. No Evelyn this evening?”

“She had plans.”

“Ah, so she was
invited
and simply couldn’t make it. How interesting.” She shot Jamie a derisive glance and his friend rolled his eyes. This was not what they needed this evening.

Lucian tilted his head to Shamus, his eyes asking
What the fuck?
Jamie simply shook his head and said, “George and Preston should be here any minute. Let’s order some drinks and get on with this. They’re both gin-and-tonic men.”

They waved over the waitress and ordered a round of the house’s best gin, and drinks for the rest of them. Toni ordered a daiquiri or some other juvenile display that was inappropriate. This entire parade was making his jaw tense. What the hell was Shamus thinking, entertaining a relationship with his little sister? This was exactly why the idea was ludicrous. Not only were Shamus’s tastes too dark for Lucian to contemplate when involving his sister, their lifestyle required a certain level of class that came, not with money, but with time and experience the likes of which Toni had yet to learn.

Lucian sighed and sipped his brandy. They discussed the strategy for schmoozing their associates, and Toni remained quiet. However, her disinterested expression, the one that said they were boring her and she’d rather be shopping, grated on Lucian.

Toni fidgeted like a child in church. He wanted to slap his friend for not taking control of the situation and demanding she stay home. This wasn’t fucking
Romper Room
. It was a multimillion-dollar merger that they were rumored to lose.

Shamus hissed a warning to Toni, who replied with an indignant glare when their guests arrived. Luckily, by the time George and Preston were escorted to their table, his sister’s expression had morphed into serene acquiescence.

The five of them shook hands and Antoinette was introduced. Ice was broken and orders were placed with no regard to price, and every bit of emphasis placed on the unspoken acknowledgement that the Labex men were their honored guests. No comment was made to hint there was any chance the deal could go to another bidder. Confidence and the assumption of success were all part of the game of persuasion.

Throughout the meal, Shamus and Lucian made a good play to lull their associates into a state of comfort that seduced them into believing this was right, this was where they wanted to be and it was in their best interests to stay.

Toni remained silent through most of the meal and Lucian was relieved. She preened prettily and batted her eyes at the other men. Ironically, this play of flattery outwardly annoyed Jamie, although he quickly hid it.

When the meal was concluded, Lucian felt confident they’d done a good job of firming up their ties. However, he was smart enough to know their work was far from done. Like sex, there would have to be some morning-after cuddling and follow-up throughout the day to prove to their counterparts they were valued and memorable even after the interaction.

Seth would send a well-thought-out thank-you that would trickle down to their subordinates. Quincy would readdress the plans, putting them in a new, shiny light that left the impression of Patras covering every base and ensuring every T was crossed and ass kissed. It was all routine bullshit that came with the game.

Preston even commented on Antoinette’s bracelet, saying his wife would like something similar. Lucian would have Seth send him the gift in the morning.

He took care of the bill and they exited the restaurant together. Once the valet retrieved George’s Mercedes, they shook hands and said good-bye.

Toni let out a breath of air as if the entire evening had been unbearable. “Next time I get mad you don’t include me in business dinners, remind me how boring they are. Jeez, I should have stayed home and watched the Kardashians.”

Dugan arrived with the limo, and the three of them slid onto the seats. As the car jostled, making fast progress to Shamus’s condo, Toni said, “Where’s Evelyn?”

That same question had been in the forefront of his mind all evening. It was tiring, this new position he was taking with her. He didn’t enjoy constantly reining in his temper and his need for control, but he was trying to redevelop the trust he’d lost, and that meant trusting her.

“She had an appointment.” There was no need to make excuses to his little sister about things that were clearly none of her business.

“An appointment where?”

Jamie cut in before he needed to. “Antoinette, mind your own business.”

Toni crossed her arms and huffed. “Whatever.”

Ignoring the irritating lovebirds, Lucian gazed out the window until they reached Jamie’s. When Dugan opened the door he was surprised to see Toni exit the car as well. Nothing like having the visual of his sister being debauched driven home. He gritted his teeth and pretended everything was as it should be, wanting nothing more than to end this evening and find Evelyn.

He wanted to text her, but texting was an issue for them. He couldn’t call until he was alone.

“I’ll see you in the a.m.” Shamus said, leaning into the open door.

Lucian nodded and Dugan shut the door, closing him in welcome, dim silence. When his chauffeur returned to the wheel, Lucian instructed, “Knights Boulevard.”

The limo stealthily merged into traffic and headed in that direction as he pulled out his phone and dialed Evelyn. Her cell rang three times before dumping into her generic voicemail. He frowned and dialed again, only to end at the same result.

Shifting on the soft leather seat, he loosened his tie. This secretiveness was not palatable. As a matter of fact, it was infuriating him more and more with each passing minute. He removed his pocket watch and flipped the antique cover open. Her plans
must
have concluded by now.

As the limo approached her apartment he immediately caught the illuminated, unadorned window. She needed curtains. Lucian let himself out and faced Dugan on the crippled patch of sidewalk.

“Should I wait, sir?”

As he prepared to answer, something caught his attention. A man, roughly in his late twenties and carrying a leather messenger bag, exited the alley. Both he and Dugan stared as the man stepped from the mouth of the alley, the alley that led only to Evelyn’s door.

A fire snapped to life in his gut as all sorts of insinuating scenarios ran rampant through his mind in a blink of an eye.

“Oh, excuse me,” the man suddenly said, stepping around them, clearly not expecting others to be on the walkway at this late hour. Their presence was likely as surprising as, say, a man exiting Evelyn’s home at such an hour.

They trained their gazes on his progress to the little Toyota parked across the street and, as if reading his mind, Dugan said, “Follow him?”

Lucian’s teeth were clenched so tight it was a wonder his tongue found the space to form words. “Yes.”

His man nodded and returned to the idling limo, making no secret of trailing the Toyota. As he stood on the pavement alone, Lucian collected his wits. A thousand assumptions played devil’s advocate in his mind. When his temper was somewhat under control and he’d waited long enough to discount any perceived coincidental meetings, he entered the alley and knocked on Evelyn’s door. Seeing the newly installed security lights brought him comfort, but he made a mental note to have the landlord agree to security cameras. He’d handle the cost and installation as well as the monitoring feed.

The peephole darkened, followed by the opening of the door. Evelyn appeared surprised to see him. “Lucian.”

“Evelyn. May I come in?” She was wearing a sweatshirt and jeans and her silver eyes appeared weary. What the hell was going on?

She nodded and led the way up the narrow stairs. He was reminded again just how miniscule her chateau was as he ducked under the low-slung ceiling at the top of the steps.

“I wasn’t expecting you.” A small table had been added to her meager collection of furniture. Two chairs. She made quick work of collecting a stack of papers from the surface of the table and stashing them in a cabinet. The paperwork confused him and he regretted not having the gall to demand she let him see what it was. The bed was neatly made.

“How was your evening?” he asked.

“Fine.”

They faced off in silence, Evelyn’s gaze landing everywhere but on his own. This was bullshit. He had the urge to demand she fess up to whatever secrets she was keeping. What had the loan been for? Who was that man?

His senses prickled as a subtle trace of the man’s cologne drifted to him. His molars locked in place. The pregnant silence weighed heavily, so much so he wondered if her dollhouse of an apartment could withstand the laden presence. She fidgeted with the string attached to the worn hood of her sweatshirt.

His chest expanded with hot breath until he fought the urge to scream.

“Did your dinner go well?”

Small talk? Really?
“Fine.”

She glanced at him and quickly averted her eyes. These were the signs of submission that went right to his cock. So strong and capable yet so delicate when handled rightly thus. He stepped closer and her fingers fluttered to her side. “You’ve been pushing me away.”

Shock registered in her stare. Her lips parted. They were so soft and pink without the need for gloss. “I . . . I was with you last night.”

“That’s not what I mean and you know it. Today, at the market, your clandestine plans, which you refuse to enlighten me on—how many walls are we going to erect before we are two completely separate beings?”

“It’s only because . . .”

He stepped closer, interrupting her excuse. She made a sound of confusion low in her throat and looked at his shoes. Her feet were bare. Did that other man see her toes?

Her breath was shaky and the slight space between them became charged with his need to possess what he saw as his. He sensed her need building as well, the ever-present chemistry between them that was impossible to deny. His fingers reached for her chin and tipped up her face until she met his gaze.

There was no apology in those stern eyes that played between crystal blue and tinsel gray. She was stubborn as a foothill, and he needed to see her bend in some manner to satisfy his wilted confidence. No other woman had ever made him second-guess his actions the way she did.

He reached between them and gripped the sagging front of her cotton shirt, bunching it within his fist and yanking her across the last gap that separated them. No space.

“I spent nearly a month without you. I won’t do it again, Evelyn. Not in word or action will I tolerate such distance between us. I want you, in my life, in my days, in my bed, and I don’t intend to acquiesce all that much. You want your independence? That’s fine . . . for now. But there’s only so much a man can take.”

The soft pink curve of her lower lip trembled as she processed his words. His thumb dragged over the fleshy pillow just before his mouth lowered and took what he needed. Breath audibly drew in as she permitted his kiss. So much had changed, somehow tilting the axis of everything he was accustomed to and tipping the balls until they all came crashing down into her court. Enough.

She could hold on to her individuality and massage her pride, because he recognized that was something she needed, but he wouldn’t give into her every whim like some docile, dickless yes-man. The need to assert some force of authority raked at him until he was nearly clawing at his flesh.

Ripping his mouth from hers, he breathed heavily as he stared into those eyes, darker now, dilated with lust. “I want you naked.” She hesitated and before she could answer, he mumbled, “And tomorrow we’re getting you curtains. Anyone could see in here if they took the time to look.”

The side of her mouth kicked up. “Not feeling your inner exhibitionist?”

“There’s a difference between fucking you on my terms at the risk of being witnessed and displaying your beauty where I’m not welcome to stay and keep onlookers at bay. You’re by yourself here. You need curtains.”

All humor faded from her teasing expression, as she understood the danger of accidently tempting a stranger with a window show. She went to her bed and removed the coverlet. After a minute the window was blocked with the makeshift drape.