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This thing I have with Lucian isn’t real,I repeat in my mind. But then why is my heart hammering in my chest? Why are butterflies racing around in my stomach? Why do I feel this way if Lucian means nothing? But who am I trying to convince? Lucian does mean something, he means a lot, and giving someone that much power, that much control scares the hell out of me.
Lucian’s kisses linger on my lips as I wake up the following morning. I’ve been kissed in the past, but never like that. Never has a man held me with such want, such desire and such need. It felt as though sparks of electricity travelled the length of my body from my head and all the way to my toes. My core awoke and tingled in a way I never thought was possible.
Unfortunately, I haven’t spent any more time with Lucian since yesterday afternoon. Upon returning to the house, he was called away on an urgent business matter. I didn’t see him again until late last night when I was going to sleep. He informed me that he would be up early because he and Farrah have a family matter to take care of. He didn’t tell me what time he would be back, and I didn’t ask. Instead, he lay behind me and wrapped me up in his arms.
Now, half asleep, I roll over, remove the flattened-down bolster from the middle of the mattress and reach over to Lucian’s side of the bed. The space is empty, and the sheets are cold.
I can’t help the pang of disappointment that courses through me. Yawning, I slide out of bed and pad across the carpet to the en suite. I brush my teeth and jump in the shower. Dressed in a towelling robe, I re-enter the bedroom.
I step into the walk-in wardrobe. My eyes widen as I glance over all the clothes Lucian has hanging up for me. On first inspection I would think these are average shop-bought dresses. They don’t scream expense, and certainly don’t look as though they each cost a small fortune. Though upon flicking the labels, I can see they all come with names—Louis Vuitton, Gucci and an Italian name I can’t begin to pronounce.
My gaze travels to the opposite side of the wardrobe where Lucian’s clothes are stored. I look up and down the long lines of shirts, trousers, cupboards, and drawers of varying sizes. I know I shouldn’t touch, but I can’t help but take a look. Ties of all colours are folded neatly in long thin drawers. Gold and diamond-encrusted cufflinks are displayed in a flat glass cabinet with a lift-up lid. All the drawers are open, with the exception of one that is locked. I trace my index finger around the keyhole. Curiosity has me tugging on the small brass handle one final time before giving up.
My gaze skims his suit jackets and I walk slowly along the rail, running my fingers over the rough fabric. One of the jackets falls from the hanger and slithers to the floor, where it lies partially held up between clothes either side. I crouch down and lift the garment by the shoulder cap. I’m about to place it back on the hanger, but instead lift the cool fabric up to my nose. I close my eyes and take a long and deep inhale. With my eyes closed I wrap the thick sleeves around my waist and hold it close to me as though I were holding Lucian.
Lucian, the man I once called the Devil. Lucian, the man I think I’m slowly starting to like, and possibly more than like.
I release the jacket, the arms falling back into place as I place it on the hanger and back on the rail. I slip on a pair of navy jeans and grey T-shirt and leave the bedroom. With Lucian and Farrah out all day I can’t help but wonder what I’m going to do with myself in this huge house.
The only thing I can do, I guess. I spend the morning with Jupiter in the paddock. Jupiter is a beautiful horse, and the most unusual orangey-yellow colour I have ever seen. But as beautiful as she is, Jupiter is wild. She bolts whenever I get close, and so instead of overwhelming her I spend much of the morning walking around her enclosure. My hope is that she’ll begin to feel more at ease in my presence.
It’s a beautiful day, the sky is blue, and the sun is shining. I look back to the house, and that’s when I notice Josh making his way toward the paddock and Jupiter’s enclosure. Smiling, I lean against the fence post and with my arms behind me I weave them between the slats.
“Morning,” Josh calls with a wave of his hand.
I nod as he leans against the fence directly behind me.
“Looks like you’ve tasked yourself with the impossible job of training Jupiter. But may I say, you aren’t well equipped for riding.” Josh’s gaze travels over the thin material of my T-shirt and then my jeans. I’m not embarrassed to admit they are on the tighter side, which would make riding somewhat uncomfortable.
I remove my arms from the fence and dust my jeans down. “Lucian said I’m not allowed to ride her. He wants me to saddle-break her first.”
“Ah, I see. Though I would advise you to quit whilst you are ahead. Jupiter is unridable.”
“Lucian told me all about the accident and the three days he spent in a coma.”
Josh grimaces and closes his eyes, as though looking at the horse is bringing the painful memory back. “Those were the worst three days of my life.”
I feel as though I should do something, like place a reassuring hand on his shoulder, or offer words of comfort. Yet there is an invisible shield preventing me from displaying any genuine emotion. After all, how can I act genuine while wearing Lucian’sfakering?
Josh opens his eyes, a pained expression on his face. He clears his throat before reaching into his jacket pocket. “Here.” He retrieves a small box wrapped in blue paper. “Would you be able to give this to Lucian for me? I’m taking Natasha home, and then I have to travel to Cornwall to oversee the progress being made on the estate agency. Therefore I won’t be able to wish him happy returns in person.”
Josh holds out the box, and I take it from him. “Today is Lucian’s birthday?” I’m not sure if I’m asking or stating the fact. Either way, I had no idea.
“Not just any birthday. Today Lucian is thirty.” Josh emphasises the word ‘thirty’. “Don’t worry, Chelsea, I didn’t think you’d be privy to the fact. It’s not like you’re really engaged. You’re only with my cousin because he’s paying you.”
Josh’s words hurt, but he isn’t being cruel, no, he’s being honest. I feel the need to tell him that things between me and Lucian have changed.
“It isn’t like that, not any more.” I scuff the toe of my trainer into the dirt. “The thing is,” I begin, but stop when Josh raises his hand.
“Please don’t feel as though you need to explain. All you need to know is that today is hard for Lucian. Please be there for him.”
I have no idea what to say, so keep my gaze trained on Jupiter, who is standing at the other side of the enclosure.
Why is today hard for Lucian? And why didn’t he tell me it was his birthday?
After dinner, and a glass of wine, I head into the lounge and wait for Lucian to return. I hold a bottle of rosé by the neck and it swings to and fro as I pad across the room. I sink down into a plush leather sofa, grab the remote for the TV and turn on a murder documentary to watch while I am waiting.
One episode turns into two and two into four. I sporadically refill my glass and watch as one by one daylight shadows are taken captive by night. It becomes harder to stay awake and, leaning my head back, I close my eyes and welcome sleep’s silent embrace.
