Lucien (7 page)

She yanked on his hair and he grunted. “Forget it, Lucien. In case you don’t remember, you’re old-fashioned and you refuse to sully your love by seducing me without the benefit of marriage.”

“Gaia help me if I ever fall for a sweet, little liar like you. You weave the most demented tales I’ve ever heard.” He gave her a small shake. “Do you honestly believe that, without my grandfather’s ultimatum, I would have asked you to marry me in order to get into your bed?”

Elise pulled back and lifted her chin, infused with a healthy dose of pride and dignity. “My mother may subscribe to the philosophy of free love and be ecstatic over having short lived, passionate affairs with whomever may strike her fancy, but I do not.” She unwound her arms from his neck. “You may not be old-fashioned, but I am. I do not give my favors lightly or without a price and you, Lucien, will do well to remember that.” She removed his hands from her waist and walked across the room on shaky legs. She sank down on the sofa and lifted the laptop onto her thighs. “Get back to work. We have a project to finish before Saturday.”

Luc leaned against the door and gazed at her thoughtfully. “Marriage to you isn’t going to be simple, is it, darlin’?”

“Marrying me is the easy part. What comes after the vows will be the hard part. If you think I’m going to fall into your arms because of an ‘I do’, then you obviously don’t know me very well.” She had never been more serious or truthful with him. She wasn’t like her mother. She didn’t dish out sexual favors for every attractive man who caught her eye. She wanted more out of life than meaningless moments of passion.

She wanted the fairy tale.

“I didn’t, but I’m beginning to.” Luc pushed off from the door and went to sit behind his desk. “For the record, Elise…?”

She looked up expectantly.

“I never once thought you were easy.” He smirked knowingly. “But when you fall into my arms, darlin’, you’re gonna love every minute of it and wish you’d done it months ago.”

Elise blushed for all she was worth and waved a hand, brushing aside his comment. “Get back to work, Lucien. I’m suddenly anxious to get to Texas.”

In Texas she wouldn’t have to torment her heart by constantly pretending to be madly and hopelessly in love with her husband. The further away from Moonbeam and Raven’s watchful eyes the happier Elise would be. In Texas, she would drown herself in a new project and cease dwelling on the elation she’d felt when Luc had confessed, ‘And I love her’.

She glanced at him from the corner of her eye. Too bad it wasn’t the truth. Marrying the man she’d been falling in love with over the past six months was more than half of the fairy tale come true.

“So you’re a bastard,” Lucas Masters said and a collective gasp went up around the room.

Luc groaned and wished for the hundredth time tonight his grandfather had opted to go fly fishing instead of sitting at the head of the dinner table.

Elise, however, did not gasp. She lowered her soup spoon and regally lifted her napkin, then dabbed it at the corners of her mouth. Her back went ram rod straight and she slowly looked up the length of the table to his grandfather’s throne.

Here we go
, Luc thought. He’d seen that look on Elise’s face before. It was the expression she adopted right before telling him to
metaphorically
go to hell.

Elise arched a finely sculpted brow and regarded his grandfather with a steely gaze. “No. I am a bitch,” she said calmly, clearly, succinctly.

Luc smothered a smirk with his napkin.

His mother gasped. His eldest sister, Lucy, gripped the stem of her wine glass with white knuckles. His twin sister—older than Luc by a whole twelve minutes—Eleanor, snickered. And his other older sister, Lucinda, continued to eat her soup as if nothing had happened.

Elise picked up her spoon and, sending a conspiratorial wink to Luc, turned her attention to the soup. The little minx was enjoying this.

Luc’s grandfather loudly cleared his throat. The old man wasn’t accustomed to be being coolly dismissed and that’s exactly what Elise had done to him. His grandfather expected mere mortals quivering before his deep, baritone voice.

“Your parents weren’t married,” Lucas stated matter-of-factly.  

This ought to be good
. Luc sat back and, forgetting all about his soup, settled in to watch the evening’s entertainment.

Elise sipped her wine then carefully set it on the table. “Not legally.”

“What does that mean? Not legally,” Lucas scoffed. His grandfather slammed his fist on the table and his mother and eldest sister, Lucy, jumped in their seats. “Either they were or weren’t.”

Elise appeared to be unperturbed by his grandfather’s thunderous expression. “They were handfast.” She paused and waited until his grandfather was about to roar again, then said, “According to The Guiding Light of Gaia Church, they were married for a year and a day. I was born within that year and a day. As for legal documents…?” She shrugged, unconcerned. “None were signed. Their spirits—souls, if you will—were joined by Druidia, the head priestess.”

“Can you prove they were married?”

A variety of emotions flashed across Elise’s face. Luc recognized only two: annoyance and amusement. She looked at his grandfather with a version of her Mother Superior look Luc was grateful he’d never had to face. He wasn’t sure he would have survived if she’d turned it on him.

“Do I need to,” she asked.

Luc lifted his drink to his lip, desperately trying to hide the proud grin threatening to break free.

His grandfather’s lips thinned and he scowled at Elise. “I don’t like bastards.”

Luc nearly choked on a guffaw.

The amusement in Elise’s face vanished and she held his grandfather’s gaze. “Neither do I.”

Luc choked, coughed, sputtered, and was awarded with a horrified glare from his mother. He answered it with a nonchalant shrug which said, ‘What can I do?’. Hell, even if he could do something, he wasn’t about to spoil Elise’s fun. When the bloodshed began, he’d step in and save her. But until then… he’d sit back and enjoy the show.

Elise smiled at Luc. It wasn’t a normal smile for her. It reminded him of a cat. One that was about to pounce on an unsuspecting, thoroughly out maneuvered and subsequently doomed, mouse. Then she said, “Although, you have to respect a bastard. Having to endure the good ol’ boy prejudice against bastardy. It must be difficult to attain true friendship.” Her attention rotated to the head of the table. “Wouldn’t you agree?” A breath of a pause and she added a pointed, “Lucas.”

Lucas lifted a bushy white brow in a manner which—were Elise a normal female—would have sent her screaming for the door. “Bastards don’t have true friends.”

Elise’s expression relaxed but remained at the head of the table. “Ah, except for other bastards.”

Luc wouldn’t have believed it if he hadn’t seen it. His grandfather blinked once, then twice and then… the old man smiled. A genuine smile. Damn. He didn’t know his grandfather could do that.

Lucas shook his head, his smile widening into grin that gave way to booming laughter. “You’ll do all right, young lady. You’ll do all right.”

His sisters, all but Lucinda, sighed with relief. Her attention remained on her soup.

Elise bit her lip, smothering a smile, and winked at Luc.

Luc winked back as his mother took this lull in the interrogation as her cue to steer the conversation back to planning the social event of the season. Luc barely listened, but devoured his meal and nodded when asked a question. Round one with old Lucas was a success. It appeared that Luc had chosen more than well. His soon-to-be wife could hold her own with his grandfather. Damn, but he wanted to grab her and kiss her.

“Lucien,” his mother called. “You have an appointment tomorrow to be fitted for the tux. So do you, Father.”

His grandfather griped under his breath. “Damn monkey suits. Why don’t you two just elope. Fly to Vegas or—”

“They will not!” his mother exclaimed, then proceeded to explain in full, animated detail why under no circumstances would Luc and Elise be allowed to elope.

Luc tuned her out and was grateful when his twin sister, Eleanor, nudged him under the table. He glanced at her.

“You did good, runt,” she whispered.

Luc smirked and nudged her back. “Thanks, stick girl. I don’t know how I could have born not having your approval.”

Eleanor picked up her wine glass and kicked him under the table. “Cindi even likes her.”

Luc glanced down the table to Lucinda who caught his eye and winked. He chuckled. “She hasn’t said a word all night. What’s up with that?”

Eleanor leaned in closer to confide. “Lucy made Cindi promise not to pick a fight with Gramps tonight. Apparently Mom was freaking out. She was worried Elise wouldn’t be able to hold her own if the old man went off on a rampage.”

“Elise did better than I could have imagined,” he murmured.

Eleanor’s bright green eyes gleamed and her black hair shined in the dim light. “She’ll keep you in line.”

“As if she doesn’t already.”

Eleanor drew back in surprise. “What was that, runt? You’re inviting me to visit once you’re all moved in down to Texas? Oh, why I would love to visit.”

Luc flicked a pea from his plate at Eleanor’s bodice which was cut entirely too low. “Yes,” he hissed when the pea disappeared down the front of her gown.

Eleanor glared at him. “I’ll get you for that.”

“Hmm, I bet you will.”

Eleanor shook the front of her dress. “Immature, little brat. I can’t believe you’ll be thirty in a few days. You act like an eight year old.”

“Only when you’re around,” Luc replied with a cheeky smirk. “What do you want for our birthday?”

“A year’s respite from you.”

“My pleasure.”

“No,” Eleanor said quickly. “You’re not getting off that easily.” She lowered her voice to add, “I want you to help me.”

He’d most likely end up regretting this later, but he was in too good of a mood to care what scheme Eleanor had worked up that Luc would have to bend over backwards to fix. “With what?”

Eleanor snuck a peek at their grandfather then moved closer and gave Luc a serious look. “I’m tired of depending on him for an allowance. I want a job. A career. It’s time I make my own living.”

Of all the things he’d expected her to ask for help with—this was most definitely not on his list. “Are you serious?”

“Dead serious.”

He was shocked utterly stupid. This was absolutely the last thing he’d ever expected Eleanor to ask him for. “Let me get this straight.
You
want to
work
for a living. At a
job
. In an
office
. Making
minimum
wage.”

“Not minimum wage,” she huffed in annoyance. “I want
you
to give me a job at that company you’re buying in Texas.”

“I’m not looking to buy the company in Texas. Ben is.”

“You, Ben, what’s the difference? Just give me a job and help me get the hell out of here,” she hissed at him.