Heat pooled low in his belly as desire suddenly bolted through him. Good lord. Lucienwantedher.
Alex’s petal pink lips parted but just then, Mrs. Turner clapped her hands and announced from the other side of the room that the music would be starting shortly. Alex stiffened and Lucien withdrew his hand, the moment lost.
“I should go sit,” she said in a rush and strode away before he could respond.
By the time Lucien crossed the room, Alex was squeezed on a sofa between her sister Phoebe and her mother. Meanwhile, Freddie was whispering softly with Hank Ericson, her not-quite-fiancé, in a corner.
As the rest of the seats were taken, Lucien was left to stand awkwardly beside a bookcase as Dierdre Turner sat down to the piano. He had a fine view of the back of Alex’s head, but shedidn’t even look to him once for the duration of the young lady’s performance—and it was quite a long one.
As the minutes passed, Lucien’s irritation grew. He had not imagined that sharp intake of breath nor those goose bumps scattered across her flesh. She was affected by him. He was sure of it. Yet Alex seemed perfectly able to control her reaction, like turning down a lamp or shutting a door.
Lucien’s fist clenched at his side. He wanted her to feel as bewildered as he did at the moment. As aching and restless for more. He wanted Alexandra Atkinson undone. Because ofhim.
Lucien wet his lips at the idea and it was not lost on him that what he felt for Alex was very different in comparison to Freddie. Rather than the idle yearnings of a lovesick boy, this wasn’t based on fantasy. It felt more serious. More mature. A slow but incessant desire gradually picking up speed. And if Lucien wasn’t careful, he might lose all control.
The room suddenly broke out into a thunder of applause and he jolted to attention. As Miss Turner curtsied, he clapped along with everyone else. Now that the music was over, people began to mill about the room once more, but he headed straight for Alex. She was still on the sofa caught in the middle of a lively conversation between her sister and mother and not even trying to hide her boredom.
Phoebe brightened as she noticed his approach. “Mr. Taylor! Come sit with us.”
Lucien smiled and took an open seat beside the sofa. “I haven’t yet had the chance to congratulate you on your engagement.”
Phoebe beamed. “Thank you. That is very kind of you to say.But I am more curious to hear how you are finding London in comparison to Paris.”
“Ah, well, I haven’t had much time for sightseeing, though I did visit the British Museum for a bit the other day.”
“Really? That is Alex’s favorite place in London! Did she tell you? I think she must go every week.” Phoebe then turned to her sister. “Did you know this?”
Alex met her sister’s enthusiasm with a sober nod. “I did.”
“I haven’t been in years,” Phoebe said with a wistful sigh. “Oh! We should all go together!”
Lucien caught Alex’s eye and she gave him an apologetic look.
“Only if Mr. Taylor doesn’t mind going again so soon,” she said.
“Yes,” he said firmly as he held her gaze. “That sounds nice. I’m told the Egyptian Gallery can’t be missed.”
A faint blush stained Alex’s cheeks as Phoebe rose. “Wonderful! Let me go ask Will,” she said. “I’m sure he would love to go too.”
“You will need a chaperone, darling,” Mrs. Atkinson called out. “Go ask Aunt Winifred.”
“But Will and I can do that,” Phoebe said with a wave of her hand.
Her mother raised an eyebrow. “You aren’t marriedyet, Phoebe. An engaged couple needs supervision just as much as they do. Likely more,” she added under her breath.
“Very well,” Phoebe relented and walked away.
“I’m sorry,” Alex murmured once her sister was out of earshot. “Phoebe can be single-minded once she gets an idea in her head. I can put her off later.”
“Not at all. I’d love to visit again,” he replied honestly.
With you.
Though he kept that part to himself. Just as Alex’s mouthcurved in a smile, Phoebe returned with the duke in tow. “How about tomorrow afternoon? Aunt Winifred is free then.”
“That’s a bit short notice,” Alex said with a frown.
“I know,” Phoebe replied apologetically. “But I’m busy at the school the rest of the week. We’re putting on a production ofHenry Vand I need to help with wardrobe.”
