Lucien (23 page)

“—even know how you feel about it? I mean, I want children, but you? I’ve never heard you mention wanting—”

“Elise. Come back to bed.”

She turned on her heel as her mind veered off on another tangent. “Luc, I’ve been thinking about this. A lot. And I’m… starting to have doubts.”

“Doubts about what?” he demanded.

Her shoulders slumped and Elise sank down onto the bed. “About everything. Especially the money.” She drew in a deep breath and turned towards him. “I thought I didn’t have a problem with taking your money, but I do. What it boils down to is that I sold my body to you. I did the one thing I promised my brother I wouldn’t do and… it makes me feel kind of… well, dirty.”

“Dirty,” he repeated in horror.

“Maybe dirty isn’t the right word,” she said quickly.

“Just say what you mean, Elise.”

She drew in a deep breath. “I don’t want you to give me any part of your inheritance. I don’t feel right about being paid to be your wife. I thought I could, but I can’t take the money.”

He stared at her for a minute, his expression a mixture of strange emotions. “If that’s what you want…?”

“It is, but that’s not all. I want to pay back the money you gave me to save Mom.”

“No.”

“But—”

“Elise, the money didn’t come from me.”

“It didn’t?”

He shook his head, a slight smile touching the corners of his mouth. “I wasn’t supposed to tell you, but… my grandfather took care of it.”

Now she was even more confused. “Your grandfather took care of it? How? Why?”

“You’re the one who told me that Moonbeam collects men.” Luc chuckled softly and smoothed a thumb across her furrowed brow. “Lucas tells me that Moonbeam’s never had a sugar daddy before.”

“You mean to tell me that… your grandfather and my mother are,” Elise gulped, “having an affair? Since when?”

“Since the wedding. Uh-uh, no more pacing for you,” he said as she started to stand up. “Get back under here.” Luc stole a kiss, then slipped an arm around her waist and dragged her under the blankets. “Elise?”

“Hmm?” Her mind was distracted with her own thoughts as she snuggled down next to him. Moonbeam and Lucas? The New Age Princess and the Cynical Billionaire were having an affair? What in the world did they have to talk about?

“Thank you.”

“For what?” Lucas and Moonbeam couldn’t be any more opposite. Maybe the old saying—opposites attract—was true, but how long would the affair last? And why hadn’t Raven told her that Moonbeam had caught herself a sugar daddy?

Luc pulled her close and murmured against her temple, “For not wanting the money.”

Elise blinked, clearing her errant thoughts. “I didn’t marry you for the money.”

“Yes, you did.”

“No, I didn’t.” She smiled as he moved, hovering over her and studying her face. “I never wanted your money.”

“But you took it.”

“Lucien, if you had gone down on one knee and proposed instead of manipulating me, I would have told you to keep your money then instead of waiting until tonight.” She caressed his stubbled cheek. “Do you really believe that I—an old-fashioned, hopeless romantic—would have married you just to save my brother the pain of selling his motorcycle? To sacrifice my emotional happiness for a male status symbol? The guilt might have worked if Raven had ever let me drive Aphrodite, but he didn’t.”

His gaze drilled into her. “Then… why did you take the money?”

“To punish you for manipulating me.” Elise paused. “Those whiskey sours must have affected my logic more than I originally thought. I suffered more taking the money than you did for manipulating me.”  

“I suffered, Elise. I didn’t realize how much until now, but I suffered.”

She brightened. “You did? I mean, um, that serves you right. The next time you try and manipulate me—”

He silenced her with a kiss. “There won’t be a next time. As long as you don’t count manipulating you out of your clothes and into a compromising position.” She melted as his voice turned husky and he plucked at one of the two buttons holding her shirt together. “Did I mention how good you look in my shirt?”

“Mmm, I don’t believe you did.” She arched her back as he dragged his tongue down her throat. “How good do I look in your shirt?”

“You look…,” he trailed off, lifting his head.

Elise tensed. “What? What’s wrong?”

“If you didn’t do it for the money, then why did you marry me?”

“Because I’m a sucker for Southern boys who can melt me with a look.” She gave him a tremulous smile and wound her arms around his neck, threading her finger though his thick, silky hair. “I never would have forgiven myself if I hadn’t married a man who respected my opinion, praised my competence, and valued my intelligence. A gentleman who understands my old-fashioned nature and holds the door for me and pulls out the chair for me. Someone I can respect and trust with my fanciful dreams.”

“Is that all,” he asked, his voice gruff.

“No.” Elise was drowning in his tender expression. His eyes were bright and smoky with emotions and she sensed the wariness in him as he waited for her to continue, but she couldn’t go on. She was suddenly swamped with insecurities, afraid to speak the words she felt so deeply. Terrified of how he would react or—even worse—not react.

“Tell me, Elise.” His whisper was hoarse and urgent. “Tell me why you you’re here. In my bed as my wife.”

The intensity of his voice sliced through her fear and she licked her lips, preparing to expose her heart, soul, and dreams to his haunted eyes. “I love you, Lucien.”

His lashes fell, shielding the fierceness in his gaze, and Elise held her breath as she waited for him to look at her, speak to her, reassure her… laugh at her. Any reaction would be better than the bleak expression on his face. Then his eyes opened, moving over her features as if… he was searching for something or memorizing her expression.

Then, suddenly a devilish glint entered his expression and he rolled over, taking her with him and settling her atop him. “Here’s your chance, darlin’.”

Elise floundered for a second, but recovered as she felt his resurrected arousal rising up between them. “P-pardon?”

“Punish me.” Luc stretched his arms out wide and lay there, exposing his body to her. “Punish me for manipulating you into marrying me. Punish me for not giving you a choice and planting my seed in you. Punish me for—”

Elise snickered. “Your seed?”

“Yeah.” He grinned. “You’re gonna have my spawn.”

“Spawn?”

“Yeah, the spawn of Lucien.” He paused a second, moving his hips against her, stoking her awakening desire. “That sounds like a title to one of your father’s books.” Then he wrapped his arms around her and flipped her over on her back as he came up over her.

Elise squeaked, “Lucien!”

“You took too long. I can’t wait all day to be punished.” His lips roamed across her neck, down to her shoulder, then his head came up and he looked into her eyes. “Have you gone to the doctor?” She could have sworn she saw a light bulb buzz to life over his head. “And a house. Down here. We have to find a house. Can’t have a kid without a house. I’ll find a house. You find a doctor.”

“Luc.” Elise cupped his cheek, trying to drag his thoughts back to her.

“A big house. But not too big. With a big yard. And a fence.” He nodded, apparently lost in his planning. “And a puppy. Junior’s got to have—” He stopped abruptly as Elise abandoned subtlety and skimmed her hands down his chest, abdomen, and lower, then took him in her hand.

“Lucien,” she purred.

He groaned. “You’re ready to punish me now?”

“Yes,” she whispered, kneading him with her grip. “Mmm, this is going to hurt me almost as much as it will you.” She flicked her tongue along his chin, trailing over the stubbled angle of his jaw to his lower lip. “Are you ready to repent your many sins, Lucien?”

“Elise.” He shuddered, an intense look of pleasure-slash-pain on his face, when she stopped stroking him. “I’m ready. Darlin’, don’t stop. Please, don’t stop,” he begged in a hoarse voice.

She drew her legs up, hugging his flanks, then shoved at his chest and pushed him over onto his back, going up on her knees to hunch over him. She took him in both hands and fondled him. “Just remember, Lucien, that what I’m about to do, I do because…,” she trailed off, positioning him at her entrance. “I love you.” Then she sent him a siren’s smile and took him deep inside her. Right where he belonged.

Two hours later, Elise mumbled in protest as Luc shifted underneath her. “No, don’t go. It’s too early to get up.”

“Go back to sleep, darlin’. I’ll be back in a few.”

Elise cracked an eye open as Luc rolled away from her and off the bed. “Where are you going?”

“Out.” He didn’t look at her as he prowled the room looking for clothes. “I need to take care of something.”

Elise followed him with her eyes. There was something about his voice that set off warning bells in her head. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, it’s all good.” He yanked on a pair of boxers from the dresser drawer and she caught a glimpse of his features in the mirror. His eyes were shadowed and he looked troubled. “Are you hungry?”

Should she push him to tell her what’s bothering her or should she just let him tell her when he’s ready? “Not really, but if you are there are leftovers in the kitchen.”

He stepped into a pair of jeans and zipped up. Not once did he look at her. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll grab something while I’m out.”

“Out where?”

Grabbing a pair of socks and his boots from the closet, he sat down on the bed. “I won’t be long.”

“Won’t be long where?”

He didn’t answer as he rolled the socks on then stuffed his feet into the boots.

“Luc,” she said, reaching for him.

He stood abruptly and jerked the shirt over his head. “Get some sleep, darlin’.” He snatched up his keys and wallet then was out the door.

Elise sat there and stared at the closed door long after she’d heard Luc start up the car and drive off to goodness knows where for food or whatever else was bothering him. It didn’t take long for her confusion to turn into something darker and she found herself dressed and pacing the living room, contemplating the multitude of possible reasons why Luc would have reacted the way he had and bolted out the door as if the hounds of hell were nipping at his heels. She didn’t know what she would say to him when he walked back through that door, but she was certain of one thing.

When he returned he better have a darn good excuse for bolting out the door in the first place.

Luc glanced over as Ben pulled back the seat next to him at the bar. “What are you doing here?”

“That’s a good question.” Ben ran a hand through his hair and sat down at the bar. “What are you doing here?”

“Damned if I know,” he muttered. Luc polished his beer, then motioned for the bartender to bring the next round. “Want one,” he asked Ben.