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There was a knock at the door and she stood, shutting off her iPad. Still thinking of Dugan Claus as she opened the door, she grinned, but her smile was quickly replaced with surprise.
“Patrice, what are you doing here?”
“Hi. Mr. Patras told me to drop off the salon ledger. Every once in a while he does an audit of our books. He’s known to be quite thorough. How’s everything going with you?”
“Uh . . .” Evelyn stepped back and she entered the suite. Her soft floral scent was pleasant and familiar. “I’m doing okay.”
She hadn’t seen Patrice since her last visit to the salon, the same day Lucian teased her about Patrice saying she had a sexy pussy. Her mind went to a place it really shouldn’t. Realizing she was just standing in the door, she pasted on a nervous smile and said, “Would you like a glass of wine?”
“Sure.”
Was this really about bookkeeping or was Lucian testing her? Memories of their last conversation regarding Patrice resurfaced. Evelyn found it difficult to look the other woman in the eye. If Lucian expected anything more than conversation to happen in her presence, he had another thing coming.
She poured two glasses of red and awkwardly backed out of the space and took a seat in a chair in the common area. Patrice filled the seat closest to the chair. “Cheers,” she said, holding out her glass.
Evelyn clanked hers to Patrice’s. “Cheers.”
“To new experiences in the New Year.”
Evelyn emptied her glass in deep gulps. Where was Lucian? As Patrice prattled on about her day and a customer who dicked her on a tip, she refilled her wine and planned Lucian’s execution. The more she drank, the more she convinced herself Patrice’s presence was intentionally meant to throw her for a loop. She could hide a body. She knew lots of hiding places.
The door opened and she turned. Already feeling the effects of the two glasses of wine she had chugged in about two minutes, she stood.
“Darling!” she purred, narrowing her eyes. “You’re back. Good thing. I was worried about you. We have a visitor.” Evelyn pressed up on her toes and leaned in for a kiss. When he pressed his lips to hers she bit him.
He pulled back and glared at her. “Behave yourself, Evelyn,” he muttered in a warning tone.
She blew out a puff of air and rolled her eyes. “Good luck with that.” She turned to flounce away and he grabbed her arm. The smack against her ass stung and her front was again pressed against his chest.
He took her mouth hard. His tongue forced between her lips and she bit at him. His hand squeezed the still-burning cheek of her ass and his fingers reached between her thighs and clenched over her crotch until she settled. He ripped his mouth away and gave her a warning look. He was obviously not impressed with her greeting.
“Don’t be a brat.” He handed her a boutique bag. “I was going to save this for later, but I think I’d like you to wear it now. Go change. Dinner will be arriving shortly.”
Evelyn took the small bag from him and recognized the hotel’s logo on it. She peeked in between the layers of black tissue and spotted pale pink lace. Lingerie.
“Lucian—”
“Evelyn,” he growled. “I do not like being accosted the moment I arrive home. Nor do I appreciate cattiness. You were disrespectful and you will not disobey me again or I’ll toss you over my knee and show you what a real punishment feels like—in front of your friend. I suggest you choose option A.”
His threat scared and excited her. The image of Lucian bending her over his knee and spanking her was oddly titillating, but she was also wise enough to see that she’d pissed him off. If he were to spank her in the mood he was in, it might actually hurt. She huffed and turned to go change.
The sight of Patrice sitting on the chair watching them made her stumble. Being that she was upset with him for inviting her, Evelyn had no idea how she forgot Patrice was there. She hoisted her chin in the air, collected her glass, filled it again, and marched into the bedroom.
Taking a great big gulp of wine, she placed the glass on the dresser and eyed the offensive little lingerie bag. She remembered when she’d first met Lucian he’d told her that clothing was courage. Well, she sure hoped that counted for underwear, because she needed some. STAT.
Evelyn groaned as she pulled the wisps of lace from the bag. She turned the bag over and shook it, but nothing else came out except for tissue. She held up the dental floss doing a weak impression of panties and frowned. There were four loopy openings instead of three. What the . . . ? She turned it and realized they were crotchless underwear. The demi bra wasn’t much better.
