The searing flush of embarrassment engulfed Lucien’s body. Damn her for remembering that night. And damn her for bringing it up now. He had only been a boy, then—a miserable, heartbroken one at that.
Alex let out a sigh and for a brief moment a flash of weariness cross her face. “I’m only trying to protect you, Lucien. Shewillhurt you again.”
“I don’t need your protection. In case you haven’t noticed,” he said darkly, “I’m not that boy anymore.”
Then he stepped closer in an attempt to emphasize his height. But rather than move back, Alex simply lifted her chin and held his gaze. Of course this woman wouldn’t be easily intimidated. She probably made grown men cry for fun. Now why did that make him want to smile?
“I noticed,” she said quietly, her dark eyes shining in the moonlight.
Somehow they had moved even closer together, though Lucien couldn’t recall taking any more steps. He couldn’t smell any perfume on her either. Only the faint scent of ink and paper. If he leaned forward just a little more, their chests would touch. The thought sent an unexpected thrill through him.
“Have you?” he said roughly.
She still held his gaze, those dark doe eyes boring into his own while the moment stretched between them, as thick and slow as golden syrup.
But rather than answer, Alex inhaled and took a step back. And then another. Until she was firmly out of reach and the invisible tether between them was unceremoniously snipped. Lucien blinked. It felt like he had just woken from a dream—and a damned strange one at that.
Then she clasped her hands tightly in front of her and cleared her throat. It called to mind a schoolteacher about to issue a particularly boring lecture.
“In any case,” she began, “I’ve come to make you a proposition of sorts. In exchange for keeping away from Freddie.”
He let out a surprised laugh. “And why on earth would I agree to such a thing?”
“Because you’re a businessman.”
“Iwasa businessman,” he corrected her.
She let out a huff. “Pity doesn’t suit you, Lucien. Your supper club was an excellent idea and was wildly successful—for a time, at least. Now you’ve had a setback and need to start again. And I can help.”
He raised an eyebrow, reluctantly intrigued. “How?”
“As I’m sure you’re aware, we run an investment firm,” she drawled. “I specialize in identifying business ideas that have the potential for great success. I will introduce you to my contacts in London and help you secure investors.”
“I’m sorry, but investors for what?”
“To reopen your supper club, of course,” she said. “In London.”
Lucien immediately shook his head. “No. I don’t do that anymore.”
She tilted her head, perplexed. “Then whatareyou planning to do?”
“Quite literally, anything else? The supper club was a massive failure. I have no wish to repeat the experience.”
But Alex only waved a hand, unconcerned. “So you clashed with your business partner and parted ways. It’s hardly unheard of, especially for your first try. I wouldn’t call that a massive failure.”
Lucien rubbed the back of his neck. “It involved a tad more than that, I’m afraid.”
Just a little embezzlement, intimidation, and threats of bodily harm.
Not that he wanted to explain any of it, least of all to her.
Alex stared at him expectantly, but Lucien looked past her toward the main house. The ballroom glowed in the near distance like a beacon in the dark. So much had felt within his reach only a few months ago. What would he give to feel that way again? Or to finally have it for himself?
He glanced back and found Alex still watching him intently. Or like a panther stalking its prey.
“Do you really think it could work?” he asked, despising the note of hope in his voice. “In London, I mean.”
“I think it would take the city by storm.” She said it with such certainty, such conviction, that he was sorely tempted to believe her. “And with enough capital, it could be even bigger than before.”
