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Isadora
Present day …
Freshly showered, Lucian exits the bathroom, wearing only a towel wrapped around his lower half, the perfect V disappearing into the crisp white fabric. He leans in to kiss me, where I lay on the bed, having left the shower ahead of him. This is the moment I’ve dreaded. When we part ways and the awkwardness settles between us. I almost wish he’d been a dick afterward and ditched me last night, because at least then I’d be familiar with this. I’d know what to expect between us.
“You’re welcome to stay here today, if you’d like,” he says, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “No sense packing up, just to turn around and come back.”
The idea of staying seems even more awkward, especially when I haven’t figured out if this was just a onetime thing between us. A weekend of sex, and we’ll be back to boss and employee come tomorrow, when the work week starts over. “I can’t. I have to run a quick errand in town, and I told my aunt I’d have lunch at The Shoal.”
“I see.” The disappointment in his voice almost sounds as if he’d prefer that I stay. “I guess I’ll see you when you get back, then.”
“You could come with me.” I flinch as the words tumble out of my mouth before I can stop them.
Again.
Especially when the expression on his face is what I’d expect if I’d just eaten a bowl full of maggots in front of him.
“Have you seen the crosses along the road? They call me the devil, in case you’ve forgotten. The mere sight of me will have them all believing the apocalypse has arrived.”
The thought of such a thing brings a smile to my face. What I wouldn’t give … “I don’t blame you. They treat me like shit, too.” With a sigh, I sit up on the bed, holding the crumpled sheet to my breast, and glance around the room. “If I lived here, I probably wouldn’t want to leave, either.”
“They treat you like shit, too. Why?”
Shrugging, I pull my knees up to my chest. “Because of my mom, mostly. I guess I inherited her reputation.”
“Isn’t that always the case.” It’s not a question, and there’s a kindred spark behind his eyes as he studies me.
“It was really bad, my first couple years of high school. The other kids and their parents, teachers, they all treated me like I was some kind of plague.” Memories of my first day filter in, when I sat eating lunch under the staircase, just looking for a place to breathe. “It gets easier after a while. Almost like their hate becomes part of your skin.” I run my finger over the tiny ridges of scars along my forearm. “Surface. As long as it stays on the surface, it can’t touch who you are inside.”
“On second thought, I would like to accompany you today.”
A zap of surprise washes over me with his sudden change of heart. “Really?”
“Really. I’ll drive.”
Expecting to see Lucian dress casual is like expecting a star to be less brilliant. No matter what he’s wearing, he always looks like a million bucks.
As he takes my hand, leading me down a hallway I haven’t yet ventured into, wearing a short-sleeve, black button-down and dark jeans, I have to remind myself not to stare at his ass the whole time. It’s unca
A delicious orange sandalwood scent trails after him, watering my mouth, as I follow behind.
The hallway ends at a door, which Lucian opens before flipping a switch on the wall beside him. Lights flicker on, illuminating what reminds me of an airplane hangar, as enormous as the room is, with high ceilings and massive shelves storing two wrapped boats. On the open floor of the place are rows of vehicles, maybe two dozen. Luxury, compact, sport. Various colors and sizes, makes and models.
“Oh, my God,” is all I can muster, as I scan the room.
“I like cars.” He takes the lead once again, toward a sleek, black contraption that looks like something Batman would drive. Specks of light from above dot the polished black exterior like stars across the night sky--fitting for Lucian.
“Do you, um … have a costume hidden somewhere? Like, only pull it out when the signal goes up? What even is this car?”
“A Bugatti Chiron. One of the fastest, most powerful cars in the world.” He opens my door on the black leather duet of seats and shiny chrome interior.
The only two-seater I’ve ever been in belonged to Griff, one of the local fishermen who gave me a ride home from the library, when Aunt Midge got tied up at The Shoal one night. He’d removed his entire backseat to fit all his gear, because he couldn’t afford a truck.
I’m almost afraid to sit down in this thing, but I slide into the seat. Like sitting in a cockpit, the leather practically hugs me, and it smells as if it’s never been driven in its life.
Lucian falls into the seat beside me, his eyes immediately darting to my exposed thighs. The only reason I opted for the airy dress, one of a few that Amy left at the Manor, is that it’s supposed to get up to eighty-seven degrees today, and I can’t bring myself to risk sweaty thighs and pit-stains on my first official outing with the guy. The dress is cool and lightweight, and I’m only going to The Shoal. It’s not like any of the regulars there will even notice, and if they do, Aunt Midge will surely bop them upside the head.
His gaze lingers for a moment, the two of us sitting in silence, until he shakes his head. “Sticking toothpicks in my eyeballs would be less tortuous than trying to keep my hands off you in that dress,” he says, firing up the vehicle, the sound of its powerful engine echoing in the garage.
I turn away to hide my smile, pressing my knees together at the warmth he’s stoked between my thighs.
A wall ahead lifts, revealing an inclined road, and when he drives forward, my head hits the seat behind me, and I remember that I forgot to strap my seatbelt. Once I’m clicked in, I settle into the cool leather seat, as he drives toward the gate.
“You look and smell incredible,” he says, not looking at me at all, as if refusing to do so.
“As do you.” Outside my window the massive stretch of lawn, with its broken fountains and unkempt hedges, takes me back to my first day here, when everything felt dead and abandoned. I’ve since found it doesn’t matter that it’s midday, the manor always carries a dark and gloomy aura. And yet, it’s strange, how in the thick of all this decay, I’ve never felt more alive.
“There’s a gift for you in the glovebox.”
Frowning, I glance toward it and back. “For me? Why?”
He jerks his head that way. “Have a look.”
I open the compartment to the small, but telling, blue box tucked inside. I may have grown up in a small fishing community, but even I know a Tiffany box when I see one. “Lucian … what did you …”
“Open it.”
I flip the box open to a gorgeous bracelet inside. Two thin chains, that I have to believe are white gold, link to either side of a large, princess-cut diamond. It’s breathtaking, and probably cost more than everything I own combined. “Oh, my God.”
“Put it on.”
Sucking my bottom lip, I shake my head. “I’m afraid.”
“It’s yours.”
“What if I break it?”
“Then, I’ll whoop your ass until you bleed.”
I snap my gaze toward him, frowning, until his stoic face breaks into a chuckle.
“I’m certain the company that makes these things are quite capable of fixing them when they break.”