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Authors: Bethany-Kris

BOOK: Lucian
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His brothers came and went without question. Despite being rowdy, they were always respectful to her. His mother had been there twice, bringing Jordyn loads of clothes, products, and entertainment, most of which still were in the bags with tags and receipts because some of the costs frightened her.

His adoptive father Antony, on the other hand, Jordyn had yet to meet face to face.

“You didn’t really answer me, though. Do you like it?”

Lucian gave a throaty laugh. “I’m not a good person, sweetheart. I like money and I don’t particularly care how it is I make it. I don’t go out of my way to do good deeds for others. This profession suits me just fine.”

“You’ve been good to me,” Jordyn challenged.

“It’s not the same.”

“Why not?”

Lucian tossed her a look that heated up Jordyn from the inside out. That’s all he needed to do, just glance at her. She learned Lucian’s eyes spoke a lot more than his mouth did, even when he was talking. Out of the three Marcello boys, it was clear he was the quietest, but likely the most dangerous.

When he watched her, and he did it often, it was unsettling. Under his heavy stare, she thought maybe he was seeing more than he let on. The man had seen her naked, helped dress her injuries day after day, and touched her to soothe her when she fell into a panic over something mundane, but he didn’t look at her like he did any of those things, or seen her that way.

Lucian stared at her like he wanted to. It sure as hell felt that way.

Even if his interest in her wasn’t so blatantly written in the things he did, Jordyn was positive she would know it was there. Something was, anyway. The closer he was, the stronger it became.

Jordyn wanted this man. That scared her for a multitude of reasons.

It scared her even more that she didn’t want to fight it.

“Why not?” Jordyn asked again.

“Because, it’s just not,
bella
.”

“I know what that means, Lucian,” she told him.

“Good. I can safely assume you’re learning, then. That only benefits us both, sweetheart.”

Jordyn didn’t quite know what to say to that, so she decided to change the subject. “I need a shower.”

Lucian cleared his throat, scratching nervously at his neck. “Can you keep the door open?”

“What, why?”

“Because I don’t like the thought of having to open it again only to find you unconscious in the bathtub for any reason. At least if the door is open, I can hear you call for me, or whatever. Just … please keep it open for my peace of mind.”

Well, how in the hell was she supposed to say no to that?

 

• • •

 

The Brooklyn apartment Jordyn wasn’t allowed to leave had officially been home for thirteen days.

Standing in front of the full length mirror to take note of the progress of her injuries was like a slap in the face. It was harder to do than she thought it would be. Some of the minor bruising had turned to a pale, yellowish shade. The welts that had been particularly bad were still tender to the touch, some a reddish color, and others turning to a darkening discoloration.

The cut on her jaw where a stud in the belt had split the skin was closed over, but not healed. It was still red and sore looking. As were the many lesions on her shoulders and back from the same culprit. She’d taken to sleeping on her side, on her uninjured arm, because it was easier than waking up stiff and tender from laying on the many wounds.

Turning slightly, Jordyn tried to get a better look at the cherry blossoms that were inked over her shoulder and dipped a short way down her back. A bit of the tattoo was permanently damaged from the beating. Where the skin had been brutally split open and bled, the tattoo would need to be fixed. Some spots just needed a simple re-coloration, while others were worse and would demand more work.

Lucian assured that would be the easiest, if she wanted to have it done. However, he’d made it clear the only person who would be inking up her body was someone worthy of doing just that. Apparently it wasn’t okay for just anyone to be touching
her
, especially for the purpose of tattooing. Jordyn wasn’t entirely sure what to make of those comments, but she wasn’t about to deny she liked the possessive undertone he didn’t bother to hide when he spoke about it.

Jordyn also noticed that when Lucian did speak about her, him, or them in some context, he nearly always spoke as if it were them together. She wasn’t even sure he realized he was doing it. The thought was just as much frightening as it was interesting.

Frankly, she hadn’t gained the courage to outright ask Lucian what it was he wanted from her, or expected.

It was a day by day thing. Whatever it was between them.

The one thing Jordyn knew for sure was the fact there was
something
there.

Like the way he made her so aware of everything, even of things she hadn’t considered before. How he watched her; when he didn’t speak. The comfort she found in his presence, despite knowing he was a dangerous man. When her heart picked up in his close proximity, or the warmth that seemed to keep on spreading at the most innocent of touches.

Yeah, something all right.

Jordyn wanted to be sure her infatuation with his man wasn’t born from a sort of hero complex her mind had created. It wasn’t such a stretch to think so, but she also knew their odd connection had started the very moment he pulled back the confessional curtain.

Not that Jordyn minded, but the small apartment didn’t afford her much privacy from Lucian when he was awake. Rarely did he sleep, or even nap, for that matter. Even at night, Lucian prowled the apartment. She found he was as fit as he was because a great deal of his morning was spent working out. The laptop he toted around was always turned on, and he enjoyed playing jazz while he worked on whatever it was he worked on.

The man’s mind ran on high twenty-four-seven. Lucian never stopped. He was always in perpetual motion in one way or another. How his body and mind kept up with his odd schedule, Jordyn didn’t understand. For her, being tired and weak from trying to heal, and her mind overwhelmed with worry and fear from what was yet to come, Lucian exhausted her just by watching him on a daily basis.

So, when he’d drifted off to sleep on the couch after a visit from his youngest brother Gio, Jordyn took the chance to strip down the in bedroom and take a private inventory of what her body looked like a week after her beating behind closed doors.

Hell, that’s what it looked like.

Awful. Disgusting.

How anyone could find her beautiful with these marks and bruises was laughable.

Jordyn felt anything but beautiful.

The lace briefs she wore were expensive, pretty and delicate. Certainly not an item you would find in a package of several at a big box store. In fact, she found these particular undergarments inside a long, white box Cecelia Marcello delivered when she brought Jordyn clothes. They came in several colors with matching brassieres. In another box of the same style with the same emblem on the top, she found another set of undergarments, only those were made of silk. The lingerie had been positioned inside the box as if they were on display and wrapped in tissue paper. The Marcello matriarch assured Jordyn she hadn’t packaged the pieces that way, but the store they were bought from did.

Jordyn tried to refuse the obviously expensive lingerie, but arguing was useless. Cecelia made it perfectly clear the cost and what she chose to spend her money on, or who for that matter, wasn’t up for discussion. The woman then proceeded to say it didn’t make a difference anyway, because it was Lucian’s money that had bought these things, not hers, and Jordyn needed them.

It wasn’t so much the lace against her skin that drew her attention as it was the bandage the panties half covered on her hip. The burn injury wasn’t healing as fast as Jordyn wanted it to, but Paulie assured her that was normal. Wounds of that magnitude took a lot longer and a great deal of attention and care before they even started to look a little bit better. The burn was a good five inches in width and four inches in length. Along with the skin Will seared off, he’d also taken Gabe’s name.

When it was healed, the tattoo would be replaced by puckered, new, scarred skin.

Staring at the bandage, Jordyn traced softly over the spot. She didn’t hear Lucian open the bedroom door until his voice was behind her.

“Did you love him?” he asked.

Jordyn released a heavy breath. “Jesus, you scared me.”

“You closed the door. I was worried.”

“Someday, you’re going to have to get over that. I’m not going to be in your sight all the time, Lucian. I can’t stay locked in this apartment forever, as safe as it is.”

“But not today,” Lucian replied, meeting her gaze in the mirror. “And you didn’t answer my question. Did you love him?”

Jordyn was acutely aware of the fact she was dressed in nothing but her undergarments, but Lucian didn’t seem to act like he noticed. Still, when she grabbed for the loose fitting T-shirt she tossed to the bed earlier, he was there at her side in a flash, holding her wrist to stop her.

“Did you, Jordyn?”

“Does it matter?” she asked.

“I don’t know if it makes a difference either way,” Lucian admitted. “I’m well aware of where he is and how long he’s been that way. But I’m curious.”

“Why are you asking, then, if it doesn’t make a difference?”

“I want to know where he stands with you.”

“With me,” Jordyn repeated.

“Mmm. In here,” Lucian said, reaching up to tap her temple before moving down to point at her heart. “And here, too.”

“You seem to know a lot about me without having to ask, Lucian.”

A sly smile crept over his lips. “Does that bother you?”

“No, but it makes
me
curious.”

“My father did a background check, a very in-depth one. I wasn’t happy about it at first, but I wasn’t aware until after he’d done it and brought it to my attention. So yes, I know a lot about you, but I don’t know you, sweetheart. Therein lies the difference.”

Honesty was the best policy, after all, but
Jesus
.

Really?

“And that’s just what, normal procedure for your family?” she asked sharply.

“No one in our lives go untouched in some way. Especially people who may be involved with the son of a major crime boss. There’s a dynasty at our fingertips, and it isn’t open to everyone. It’s not my place to tell my father what he can or can’t do, not that it would change his decisions if I tried.”

That really didn’t make her feel better. “Am I the kind of people he tends to keep away?”

Lucian’s laughter was a deep rumble that did something wicked to Jordyn’s insides. “No. You’re the kind of person who made his son lose his mind for a week. The kind of girl that distracts his capo from doing his job, keeps him from sleeping even less than he already does, and takes his focus off his family. That isn’t the kind of
people
my father keeps away, but you are the kind of woman he wants to know about. Know exactly why you do those things to his son. Understand?”

Kind of, as odd as it was.

“So you know everything about me?”

Lucian nodded. “Mostly. Fact wise, anyway.”

“That’s not fair,” Jordyn murmured.

“What isn’t?”

“This. Us. I know practically nothing about you.”

“You know more than most,” Lucian replied. “You know what I am, what I do. You’ve met my brothers, my mother. You know I’m adopted. I’ve had you sleeping in the next room for thirteen nights and I haven’t tried to fuck you once. I’ve had many women, but I never let a woman sleep in one of my beds until morning. For the sake of honesty, though, I do think about sleeping with you quite often. Or at least, I wonder what kind of a lover you are because I want you to be mine.”

Oh God. That did not help.

“You were in bed with me the other night.”

“Not for the intent to have sex with you. I wanted to calm you even though you were trying to act like the nightmares weren’t bothering you as badly as they were.”

“You kissed me.”

Lucan smirked. “First time for everything, I suppose.”

Jordyn stood a little straighter at that comment. “Are you saying that was—”

“For me? Yes.”

“But you’re twenty-seven. You said it yourself, you’ve had plenty. That doesn’t even make sense. You can have sex with someone, but not kiss them?”

“Kissing is affectionate,” Lucian said quietly, his mouth drawing a thin line. “I didn’t have affection for the women I took to bed.”

“Sex is affectionate,” Jordyn challenged.

“Not always. Sex is a need, a desire. Something that doesn’t have to have feelings behind it to be acted out. Attraction is not the same thing as affection.”

“You just said you thought about me being your lover, but you kissed me. Is that not the same for you as being with someone else? Were they not lovers, too?”

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