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“What does that mean?” I ask, looking up at him, but his attention is already on a passing enforcer, to whom he raises a hand in greeting.
“Nothing,” Lucas says. “We’ve got to get home soon. Say your goodbyes and be ready to go in ten.” Not bothering to wait for a response, he heads off towards the other mucky-muck, leaving me to shoot Theo an uncertain glance. He’s still watching me with that unreadable look on his face.
For a moment, I wonder if I should say something, still not sure if he even remembers our first meeting. But he beats me to it. “I’ll see you later, kid,” he says, the corner of his mouth twitching up in a knowing smirk, and before I can blink, he’s walking away.
Kid.
I guess he remembers me, after all.
…
The ride back to Lucas’s Central London apartment is subdued, and I’m on a roller coaster of emotions. I still don’t feel like a newlywed, and I’m still trying to process the shock of my encounter with Theo. And that’s not even starting on the whole “this is my wedding night and we’re heading back to Lucas’s place” thing. It’s not even like I’m inexperienced. I had a few hasty flings back when I was a teenager—all of them your classic ill-advised, inexperienced, and totally unsatisfying hookups—but I’m not exactly a pro, either.
Relax,I tell myself as the limo pulls up to the curb and Lucas helps me out.This is the 21st Century. You’re not some blushing bride waiting to consummate your marriage after sundown.Remember what Mom said: this is bigger than all of us.
But that doesn’t do much to ease my nerves.
Lucas doesn’t say much on the ride home; in fact, he spends most of the drive talking to someone on his phone in a low, clipped voice. Under different circumstances, I might take the opportunity to eavesdrop, but I’m too thrown off to even do that... And besides, there’s no knowing what someone like Lucas Emmerico might do if he found out his new wife was poking her nose where it didn’t belong.
His apartment is in a luxury building downtown, a suite overlooking much of the city, and although I’ve been over once or twice during our so-called “courtship,” I still can’t get used to the gaudiness of it all: the gilded chairs and silk drapes, the cavernous living room with its too-long, too-ornate coffee table, the massive modernistic chandelier suspended from the ceiling. Even art, the only interest I’ve ever had that’s been all my own, offers little respite here. Gaudy, oversized modern paintings in gold frames, probably only worth a fraction of what Lucas paid for them, are strewn across the walls. I can’t fight the sense that it’s a smaller, ersatz version of his father’s mansion, without the history and elegance.
“Home sweet home, right?” I ask, forcing myself to plaster a smile on my face.
Lucas ignores me; he’s still finishing up his call. He doesn’t carry me over the threshold like in the old movies, nor does he offer any words of welcome as he stalks over to the closet. “Damnit,” he mutters as he hangs up the phone, already rummaging through the clothes.
“Everything all right?” I ask.
He barks out a laugh. “That’s a good one, Vivian.” Glancing over his shoulder at me, he snaps, “What are you waiting for? Make yourself comfortable.”
“I...” My eyes drift to the bedroom, and then to my own suitcase. Now what? Do I go strip off and drape myself over the bed? Throw on some lingerie and hope for the best?
What’s the saying, again?I wonder.Close your eyes and think of England?
The thought makes me queasy, but it also makes me giggle hysterically. Lucas shoots me another look, his expression unimpressed. “What?” he demands.
“Nothing,” I reply, my smile vanishing immediately. “Sorry. Just jitters, I guess.” It’s sort of true. Lucas snorts, and I frown when I realize he’s started throwing clothes into his overnight bag. “Are you going somewhere?” I ask.
“Away,” Lucas replies opaquely.
I blink. “Away? Uh... for how long?”
“A week? Two? Twelve?” Lucas snaps, throwing up his hands. “Who the hell knows? As long as it takes to clean this mess up.”
“What mess?” I blurt before I can stop myself.
My new husband rounds on me, anger flashing across his face. “Do you always ask so many questions?”
“Only when I’m confused,” I retort, kicking myself for it almost immediately. It’s not hard to figure out why he’s being so cagey. If the Emmerico crime family is at the heart of whatever it is, then it’s practically guaranteed to be below board. The only question is,howbelow board? My father at least operates under a facade of legitimacy, but the Emmerico’s are a different animal completely.
I take a step back, wrapping my arms around myself, and Lucas’s expression softens a little. “Don’t you worry your pretty little head, Vivian,” he tells me, reaching out to touch my cheek for a fraction of a second. “You can settle in on your own time. What’s mine is yours, right?” The smile he gives me doesn’t make me feel any better. I watch as he finishes packing, fires off a string of rapid text messages, and then retreats toward the door. “I’ll let you know when I get in,” he tells me curtly, still not bothering to mention where it is he’s going. “Theo will be over in half an hour.”
That blindsides me even more than his sudden departure. “Wait, what? Why?”
“What?” Lucas laughs. “You think I’m going to let you run around the city on your own with this alliance still unsettled?”
I run my hand through my hair. “I’m sure Rhys or one of my other bodyguards could—”
“We have enemies on both sides of this, Vivian,” Lucas cuts me off. “Not everyone in your family wanted to see this marriage go forward. You’d do well to remember that.” He glances at his phone. “Theo’s agreed to look out for you while I’m gone. Our people shouldn’t give you any problems, but if they do...” His expression darkens. “I’ll take care of it.”
