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His dark brows lowered over his dark eyes. “Do what wrong?”
Exasperated, she held out her palms and dropped to her bottom. “It.” She knew he had done most of the work, but she wanted to have a second try. She felt a little braver now that she knew what to expect. “Are you no longer attracted to me?”
“God, Evelyn, no. I just . . . You’re innocent.”
“So? Is that so bad?”
He looked away.
“Lucian, I know you didn’t expect me to be a virgin, but so what? I’m not anymore. You act like it’s a bad thing. Look at it this way. You’re all I’ve ever known as far as anything sexual. Rather than run from me, teach me.”
Scout waited for him to reply, but he wouldn’t even look at her. Brazenly she reached for his belt and began to undo it. He jumped up as if she had spilled scalding coffee in his lap.
“What are you doing?”
His look of contempt was so fierce she flinched. Her mouth opened and closed but no words came out. He glared at her and incredible shame snaked through her belly. He scowled at her as if she had tried to rape him. Tears stung her eyes.
“N-nothing. I won’t touch you again,” she whispered, and he walked away.
Scout sat on the floor, staring out the window for several minutes. When the front door of the penthouse slammed, she jumped. Maybe she should leave. Unsure if she’d be welcomed back at St. Christopher’s, she chucked that idea. She didn’t want to leave anyway. Lucian had become someone she was growing used to sharing her days with and she stubbornly wanted to see this thing through.
Her brain kept replaying Lucian’s words about Parker in her head. The more she thought about Parker the more she feared Lucian was right. She decided she’d visit Pearl.
Her plans were dashed when a bolt of lightning webbed the solid sheet of sky like cracks in an old teacup, and there was a sharp crash of thunder. The skies suddenly opened and it began to pour. She had nowhere to go. Trapped.
Unable to sit in the suite any longer, she grabbed her room key and left. Scout walked down to the lobby and looked at the paintings of local architecture on the walls. She sat on a cushioned bench and watched families and lovers dining in the restaurant.
The doormen all wore Patras ponchos and plastic caps over their brimmed Patras hats. It made her think of the picture of her and Pearl and that silly rubber hat.
After a while she walked through some of the boutiques. Her eyes snagged on a black leather belt with a gunmetal gray, sleek buckle. It reminded her of Lucian, hard, yet soft, attractive, yet completely masculine. She asked if she could purchase it, and the clerk asked for her room key to put it on her tab.
Scout knew it was silly, buying him a present with his own money, but she’d never bought anything like that before. When the clerk rung her up the bill was ninety-seven dollars. As she reached for her room card Scout pulled it back.
“Wait,” she said, hesitating as her mind worked.
The clerk’s assistant who’d been gift-wrapping the leather belt paused as well. “Is something wrong, Miss?”
“I’m not going to charge it to my room. Can you hold onto it for a minute while I run upstairs? I’ll be right back.”
When the elevators deposited her on the top floor, she raced into the bedroom. Lucian still wasn’t back. Her hands dug through her bag and pulled out a tight folded pile of twenties. Her fingers shook as she counted out five of them. Once she had enough money for the belt, she stuffed her money back in her bag and wedged it under the bed.
Scout raced back to the elevators and impatiently bounced as she waited for the car to arrive. She’d never spent this much money on anything. She wanted to hand it over before she changed her mind. The door opened and she jumped into the elevator.
Scout sped through the lobby to the boutique. The bills were sweaty in her palm by the time she handed them over to the clerk.
They did a beautiful job wrapping the gift in black sleek paper and a diagonally tied silver bow.
“Did you want this delivered to your room, Ms. Keats?”
Scout agreed, feeling dizzy from doing something so spontaneous. An attendant in sharp black pants and a Patras blazer came and collected her package and carried it to the elevator. As the elevator doors closed, her eyes focused on the dial rising as ninety-seven dollars traveled farther and farther away from her. Then she felt like she was going to puke.
How could she have been so wasteful? Pearl could’ve used that money. Or Parker. It could’ve bought food for the shelter or a coat and a new sweater for Park. Oh, God, she was a terrible person.
