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Lucian’s back is toward me when I re-enter the lounge. The curtain’s thick velvet material is clasped between his fingers as he stands and peers out onto the moonlit street.
With my hands held firmly behind my back I make my way across the room. The confidence that accompanied me moments ago dwindles with every passing second. Each step I take feels heavier than the last, and each breath harder to inhale.
I stand still for a beat and try to calm my nerves. Instead of advancing toward him, I’m walking back, back toward my bedroom and familiarity.
The floorboard creaks and Lucian turns to face me. Silently he watches me, and I can feel his gaze drinking me in. Though the admiration in his eyes is quickly replaced by disappointment and his brows slam together the second my fingers connect with the handle of my bedroom door.
“Chelsea, wait.” His tone emits authority, the kind that has my feet rooted firmly to the spot.
I close my eyes to block out everything around me, and with my arms wrapped around my waist I shake my head. “I’m sorry. I thought I could do this, but it’s too much.”
I take a moment to bask in the silent emptiness that surrounds me, but jump at the sensation of warm skin brushing against my face. My eyes snap open to find Lucian standing inches from me. He gently caresses my cheek with the back of his hand.
“Don’t,” I whisper. I tilt my head away, though his hand follows. For a split second I forget who I am, I forget who he is. I lean into him and it’s as though I melt into his touch. The contact sends shards of electricity whizzing from my head right down to my toes. I’ve been touched before by a man, but never like this.
“I can’t do this,” I say, with more certainty.
Lucian
“You have made me wait two years for tonight. You’re going to have dinner with me.”
She swallows loudly before stepping back. “Fine. But when we are done, I want you to drop the magician act.”
“Excuse me?”
“You know, magically popping up in my life.”
I laugh and, brushing past, I capture her hand in mine. “No promises, because like it or not, I own the building where you live.” And, taking the lead, I walk us toward the table. I pull out her chair and she sits.
“I’ll find somewhere else to live. Then I’ll be rid of you.”
My smile doesn’t falter as I sit in the chair opposite. “For a short while, perhaps.”
Chelsea holds out her arms exasperatedly. “What are you going to do? Buy every building I rent?”
“If I have to.”
Her jaw goes slack. “Tell me you’re joking.”
I smile devilishly. “Perhaps.”
She gives me a lopsided grin before shaking her head. “I don’t get you, Lucian.”
“And that is how it will remain. Transparency in most cases is boring.”
“Am I transparent?” Her question is so quiet I barely hear. It’s as though curiosity got the better of her and the words tumbled out of their own accord. I could feign ignorance and pretend I didn’t hear. But where would the fun be in that?
“Are you transparent?” I repeat her question and let the words rest on the tip of my tongue before answering. “As a pane of glass, although you are yet to bore me.”
My reply has the desired effect as her cheeks turn a delicious shade of crimson. I break eye contact with Chelsea and glance down at my phone. I scroll through my contact list and stop on my butler Ronald’s number. Without hesitation I open up a new message.
Me: My date has arrived. See to it that our food is brought up.
My finger hovers over the send button before I return my attention to Chelsea. “I wonder, is it presumptuous of me to refer to you as my date?”
“Does my opinion really matter? You’re Lucian Calloway the Great.” Chelsea makes a point of air-quoting ‘the Great’. “You do and say as you please.”
She has a point; I wouldn’t have changed the word even if she objected. Chelsea leans forward and takes the glass of wine I courteously filled for her a little while back and drinks the entire contents.
