Phoebe shot her one last look before she joined Will. Freddie and Hank Jr. were also among the other dancing couples and as they swept past, the light of the chandelier caught on the ring and sparkled.
Phoebe was right. It was massive.
A smile played on her lips. Perhaps this would be all right. Perhaps Freddie would be happy in New York with Hank Jr. And if she wasn’t, well, now she could have Lucien.
Alex stepped away from the edge of the dance floor until her back touched the wall. Until she was shrouded in shadows and would not draw any more attention. Phoebe was mostly right. She and Freddie would both be married within the year, and Alex sincerely wished them every happiness. She had played at courtship, and that had been more than enough for her. Alex was cut from a different cloth and she needed to stop trying to fit in where she did not belong. Tomorrow she would go back to the office and do what she did best. Do what she was made for.
Twenty-Four
Lucien stared up at the top floor of Atkinson Enterprises. It was well after six and only Alex’s office window flickered with dim light. He had made it through a long, excruciating week without coming here. Every time he felt the urge, he set his thoughts to something else.Anythingelse. But now he had a reason. A very good reason.
Chisolm had sent Alex his contract two days ago. She should have returned it by the evening. And yet, she still had it. At first, Lucien had worried. Perhaps Alex had fallen ill. Or maybe someone in the family was in distress. But now that he was here on the street corner seeing the evidence to the contrary before his very eyes, Lucien felt only anger.
Shewas the one who had orchestrated this deal.Shewas the one who had insisted that Chisolm was Lucien’s best, nay, only option. And now she kept him waiting. Butwhy? Lucien couldn’t fathom the reason. Simply because she could? Because she enjoyed toying with him? How dare she. Howdareshe.
He would march up there and give her a piece of his mind. That was not how you treated someone. Even someone youhadn’tbeen intimate with. But the fact that they had and yet she still treated him with such utter indifference only made his blood run hotter. Lucienhad just stepped off the curb when a man came out of the shadows and slipped into the building. Lucien stopped short. He hadn’t gotten a good look, but the man seemed strangely familiar. Frowning, Lucien continued across the street and tried to place him. It wasn’t until Lucien entered the deserted lobby that it came to him: It was the large, shifty-looking fellow he had seen at the theater. And again at the Royal Geographical Society. And now he was here, long after the rest of the staff had gone home for the day.
Everyone except Alex.
Concern blunted his anger and Lucien moved faster, his heels clicking along the pristine marble floors. He reached the bottom of the staircase and spotted the man just as he disappeared down the hall on Alex’s floor. Lucien’s stomach turned as he raced up the stairs, determined to catch up, and was suddenly very thankful that London’s omnibuses were so unreliable that he had taken to walking most of the time. He was only slightly out of breath when he reached the top and entered the hallway. The man was a dozen paces ahead of him but immediately turned around. Lucien paused and swallowed. The intruder was much taller than he had appeared from across the street. And far larger. He had a bulbous crooked nose and scarred cheeks. It was the face of a man who had seen more than a few fights.
But Lucien only lifted his chin. He wouldn’t back down. He couldn’t. “What are you doing here?”
The man cast an apprising look over him, then smiled. It called attention to a long, ugly scar that ran diagonally across his mouth. Lucien didn’t evenwantto know how someone got a scar like that. Or how they survived. Rather than answer his question, the man clenched his fists by his side, cracking each knuckle as he advanced on Lucien.
Lucien took a step back and held up his hands. “I don’t want any trouble,” he said, hoping to distract the man for as long as possible.
“Leave now,” he growled. “Or else you will indeed find more trouble than you can handle.” Lucien responded by putting up his fists. The man’s ugly smile only grew. “Fancy yourself a hero?”
“Something like that.”
The man scoffed. “Never did care much for the heroes. Always preferred the villains, myself,” he said before throwing the first punch.
Lucien neatly ducked out of the way. He was absolutely no match for this man, but he had learned a few things about fighting from his burly French cousins. The first was to run away—but barring that, one must avoid being hit for as long as possible. Let the aggressor tire themselves out.
“Alex, get out of here!” Lucien shouted as he moved nimbly out of the man’s reach.
The next was to shout for help. Loudly and often.
“Shut up,” the man growled as he lunged for him again.
Lucien spun back. “Alex! You’re in danger,” he shouted again, even louder. God, he hoped she could hear him.
After avoiding and shouting, there was nothing left to do but throw a punch. Ideally, to the soft parts of the body. Lucien quickly ran his eyes over the man’s towering form. The bastard didn’t seem to have any soft parts. Lucien raised his fists once more and resumed a fighting stance.
“That’s it, boyo,” the man growled. “Show us what you got.”
Lucien took note that the man spoke with an Irish brogue. It seemed like an important detail, if he survived.
He threw a false punch with his left and rammed his fist into thebrute’s stomach. It was a perfect execution of the maneuver. Under different circumstances, Lucien would be quite proud of himself. However, the man’s torso appeared to be comprised entirely of solid muscle. He let out a soft grunt but otherwise seemed unaffected.
Damn.
The man grinned and crooked two fingers at Lucien. “Come on, lad. Let’s see you try that again. But give it some heft this time.”
Lucien rolled his shoulders. He had used all the heft he had. “What do you want with Miss Atkinson?” he asked. Time to employ a little distraction.
“Not your concern.”
