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I bring a hand to my throat and massage the skin there. “And you’re an asshole.”
Lucien chuckles as Baxter strides over. Standing side-by-side, the two of them create an imposing force. And a striking visual. Now that Baxter’s hair is dry, it’s light brown and makes up a warm earthy palette when paired with his green eyes. While Lucien’s icy blue gaze is a stark contrast to the midnight black of his hair, giving him a cold, harsh appearance.
Separate, they are attractive.
Together, they are irresistible.
I squint up at both of them, conveying my displeasure for different reasons. It doesn’t have any effect on either man. Baxter rolls his eyes and walks up to me, taking my upper arm.
“Hopefully, this will not take long, and I can be rid of you.”
“Oh! Then she’s all mine,” Lucien says.
I make a face at both of them, right before Baxter drags me down the hallway with Lucien close on my heels.
“Poor grumpy bastard,” the man says with a nod at Baxter. “He doesn’t know how to have fun. We should teach him, eh?”
When I turn to view him over my shoulder, I shoot him an incredulous look in lieu of speaking. He laughs again, and I go back to facing forward with a huff. I’m not sure which of them is worse.
Or more dangerous.
* * *
“Lie down here,” Baxter says.
He gestures to a fainting couch that could’ve been stolen from a history museum. It’s the only piece of furniture that doesn’t match the rest of the room, making it stand out in an awkward way. It’s similar to Lucien’s ratty hat when compared to the rest of his fancy clothes.
“What are you going to do?” I ask.
He gives me a dirty look, and I hurry over to sit down but remain upright. I clasp my fingers in my lap to hide my fidgeting. Not that it helps. I’m pretty certain both men can tell I’m nervous.
Baxter’s annoyance is opposite to Lucien’s amusement at my demeanor.
The brunette exhales a breath of frustration. “I’m going to help you recover your memories.”
“I know, but how?”
Lucien walks over to sit beside me. I frown up at him and scoot over, putting distance between us. He follows me until our outer thighs are pressed together once more.
My frown morphs into a glare. “What are you doing?”
“Making sure Baxter doesn’t kill you.”
“Oh.” The air whooshes from my lungs, and I slowly lean to the side, resting against the curved edge of the couch. “I didn’t realize it would be dangerous.”
Baxter nods. “For you and me both.”
“Which makes it so exciting,” Lucien says.
He smiles at me, and my palm itches with the urge to slap his handsome face. I lace my fingers again to refrain from giving in to the impulse. Given his penchant for pain, he might enjoy it.
I shake my head at him. “You’re crazy.”
“Crazy is a subjective term,” he says. “I prefer to think of myself as lacking boundaries.”
Baxter grunts. “As was showcased by your invasion of my home earlier.” He shifts his attention to me, and my breathing becomes shallow. “Lie on your back with your head draped across the armchair.”
I do as Baxter says, noting the licentious gleam in Lucien’s eye. He doesn’t come closer, but there’s no relief to be found in that since he’s unstable. At least with Baxter, I’m pretty certain he won’t do anything to me. With Lucien, all bets are off. He exemplified his “lack of boundaries” by accosting me at the door.
